


Emotions in Limine

by whenidance



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Lawyers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-27
Updated: 2012-06-27
Packaged: 2017-11-08 17:13:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/445558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenidance/pseuds/whenidance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As one of the founding partners at The Firm of Hummel, Lopez, and Smythe, Kurt is far too busy to worry about a personal life – on top of the stress of trying to make a name for himself as one of the most promising young attorneys in the Midwest, he’s got to keep a handle on his own office politics, which consist of Santana hooking up with their receptionist and Sebastian trying to get into his pants. When they hire a few new paralegals to help with their impending caseload, the last thing Kurt expects is to fall in love with one Blaine Anderson – and especially not on the eve of his thirtieth birthday. Can their secret office romance survive when their coworkers are quite possibly the nosiest group of people in the whole state of Illinois? (written for gleebigbang on LJ)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Not mine, don’t sue, or if you do, I request a t-shirt for your troubles. I am well aware that admission to a bar association varies by state, and just because Kurt, Sebastian, and Santana are able to practice law in Illinois, this does not grant them the ability to do so in every state. Instead of being worried about the accuracy of every single statement in this fic, I decided to not stress myself out and take a little artistic license with the law profession. My husband and various close relatives and friends have all worked in the field (the traveling bit was totally ganked from a friend to suit my needs – so sorry your life turned into porn, G). The only research I did was picking their brains over cocktails and spending a few hours on Google (starting your own law practice shortly after graduation is actually a growing trend now, though, color me shocked). What I’m trying to say – if this is a problem for you, perhaps this is not a story you should read. :) It's a story about lawyers, yes, but mostly it's a story about love and that's what I wanted to focus on.
> 
> **Warnings** Sexual context (Klaine – handjobs, blowjobs, rimming, anal, sex in an office/unintentional voyeurism), mentions of past Kurtbastian (mostly so I didn’t have to deal with an OC), abstract talk of a past minor character death
> 
> **Thanks:** Back around Thanksgiving, colfer said someone should write paralegal!Blaine and lawyer!Kurt having sex in Kurt’s office. This … is what that turned into. (This is also a note that I keep prompts around _forever_ , and can’t be concise to save my life.) Thanks to her, djgulia, and ccmskatechick for their eyes and ears, and to wordplay for listening to my whining and hooking me up with hedgerose, who gave me the most wonderful art (link forthcoming) even though she’s part of Team Overextended this spring & summer as well. The bulk of this has been mostly done for almost two months, and man, was it hard holding it, though I guess we’re kind of in a rut now. I guess regala_electra was right – [I am Batman](http://whenidance.org/post/25572787573/fyi-i-found-you-because-you-were-the-hero-gotham).

Kurt sighed as he pushed the elevator button for the ninth floor, looking out at the other buildings lining the Chicago streets through the windows as the elevator sped by. He hadn’t seen his office in three weeks. He'd been in Omaha for on the Harrison case with Quinn, one of his paralegals, and his partner, Sebastian, and the Chicago skyline was such a welcome sight after being away for so long.

Sebastian was his partner in _law_ , not anything else – he liked to correct people, because Sebastian was more than happy to lead them on, if only to irritate Kurt. They were both passionate about their work and had an undeniable chemistry. It’s what made them excellent in court together. Even in law school, no one wanted to argue opposite Kurt and Sebastian during their exercises and mock trials. Together, they were practically unbeatable.

And well, if they’d given in to some of that chemistry post-trial, it just came with the territory of getting caught up in the joy of winning a major case. The pleasure that came from doing something _right_ , not just for themselves, but for their client. What happens in Omaha stays in Omaha, right?

The same could be said for Indianapolis and Denver, Kurt supposed. And Minneapolis and Sioux Falls and … 

Kurt really had to stop taking on these cases with Sebastian alone. He’d have to insist Santana take on more of the out of town stuff the rest of the year, though he knew she hated to be away from home for long. She tried to insist she found travel depressing, the basic Midwestern cities even more so, but Kurt thought it had more to do with Brittany, their receptionist, since he was almost certain Santana was sleeping with her

For what Sugar, their office manager, had dubbed ‘The Gayest Little Law Firm in the Midwest,’ they did seem to be fairly incestuous. Artie, their other paralegal, had once dated Sugar and there had been rumblings of him and Quinn seeing each other over the summer, though nothing had ever come from that. The only one who had been able to avoid the mess had been their third paralegal, Tina, since she was married to a lovely man, Mike, who was the one of the directors for the Joffrey Ballet (Kurt always forgot what he was in charge of – community management, maybe?). Tina was expecting their first child any day now, and had quit just before Kurt and the others had left for Omaha. Santana had hired a replacement, plus two additional paralegals since their case load had grown tremendously in the past year, and Kurt was happy to get some new blood in the office.

Kurt loved his coworkers, he did, but a change was always welcome. He’d worked with the same people the whole three and a half years the firm had been open. The eight of them had worked tirelessly together to get the little fledgling law firm of Hummel, Lopez and Smythe off the ground and Kurt would be forever indebted to all of them. They were slowly building a reputation for themselves, not just in Chicago, but the greater Midwest, and _this_ was what Kurt imagined in his head when he thought about becoming a lawyer all throughout college, not the mundane firm he’d been stuck in for a whole year after graduation. His coworkers weren't just his coworkers; they were the closest thing he had to a family in Chicago.

Kurt strode through the glass doors, emblazoned with his name in neat, white letters – Santana’s and Sebastian’s right under, of course, but still. A little thrill shot down his spine whenever he noticed it. Thank goodness for alphabetization. He saw Brittany’s face brighten instantly behind the reception desk when she saw him, and he quickly hung his coat and hat on the rack (why was it still cold the first week of _April_?) and set down his briefcase and coffee cup before walking over to her and letting her envelop him in a tight hug. “Don’t tell Santana,” she whispered fiercely, a secret, “but I miss you guys when you’re not here. It’s just not the same without you. How was Omaha?”

“It smelled like cows,” Kurt replied, wrinkling his nose a little and making Brittany laugh. “The new paralegals settling in okay?” he asked, dropping his voice in case any of them were lurking behind reception. 

Brittany nodded rapidly. “They’re not here yet. No one is. Just you and me! Lauren’s really good with computers and cameras and stuff that should be illegal, but it’s not, and Rachel’s kind of dramatic, but really sweet once you get to know her, and Blaine is great at following directions and really, really hardworking. He stayed here late with Santana almost every night this week.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. Working late every night his first week there? He was probably a showoff, or perhaps had missed the memo that Santana was a lesbian, and had a crush. Still, it was nice to hear everyone was settling in well. He and Sebastian had been a little apprehensive about letting Santana conduct the interviews and hiring alone, but they were in a bit of a time crunch. Their biggest case yet was starting up in a few weeks, and they needed plenty of extra help.

"I'm going to try to get caught up, holler if you need me," Kurt finally said after allowing himself a few more minutes of gossip with Brittany, smacking his lips against her cheek as he left. He'd purposefully come in early to wade through the stacks of paperwork that had inevitably been left on his desk. 

An hour later, his nonfat mocha was done for and his desk was at least organized. It wasn't quite nine yet, and Sugar had requested everyone meet in the conference room at ten to make introductions. Kurt would definitely need more coffee before then. He meandered to the break room, in a spectacularly good mood for just going through so much paperwork. He hummed a few bars from 'As If We Never Said Goodbye' under his breath as he pushed his back against the break room door to swing it open (it always seemed to lodge itself in Kurt’s head after traveling – it was one of his favorites from the brief time he was in glee club in high school). Kurt was so caught up in his own thoughts that he jumped considerably when he noticed he wasn't alone.

Kurt stared at the man turning to face him, the single-serve coffee maker previously occupying his attention, an amused grin playing on his lips. His suit jacket was slung over his folded arm, a navy blue bow tie and navy suspenders framing his crisp white shirt. _Blaine_ , Kurt's brain supplied. _Blaine Anderson, one of the paralegals._ Kurt's eyes trailed up to his face again, deep amber eyes behind a pair of tortoiseshell frames, his hair parted and slicked back neatly with gel. 

He suddenly wasn't so worried about Santana's hiring choices.

"Sorry," he said, finally finding his words after realizing he'd been staring a tad longer than should be professional, "I thought Brittany and I were the only ones here."

"No, _I'm sorry_ ," the man who was presumably Blaine said with a head tilt and a soft laugh. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Blaine."

"Kurt," he replied, walking over and proffering his hand for Blaine to shake. "Kurt Hummel."

"Well, Mr. Hummel, I've heard a lot about you." Blaine smiled at Kurt, all toothy and genuine, and Kurt felt a little weak in the knees. _No one_ should be allowed to be this charming. 

"Please, call me Kurt," he said, letting go of Blaine's hand and feeling a flush rise in his cheeks. What was happening to him? He was Kurt Hummel, attorney extraordinaire, known for his ability to never crack under pressure. What was he doing letting a cute paralegal fluster him? He broke Blaine's gaze, busying himself with selecting a coffee flavor, hoping he wasn't making too much of an ass of himself for a first impression.

"Kurt," Blaine repeated, taking his coffee mug from under the machine and raising it in mock toast. "I'm looking forward to working with you, Kurt."

With that and a nod in Kurt's direction, he was off, leaving Kurt to shamelessly stare at his ass as he walked out the door. 

Kurt was certainly looking forward to working with Blaine too.

 

There was a knock on Kurt's door at nine thirty-five. "Hey, sexy," Sebastian said, low and teasing as he peeked his head in the door.

"Sebastian, shut the stupid door," Kurt hissed. "And we don't _do_ that here. So, stop."

"We could," Sebastian said, sinking down into the plush club chair in front of Kurt's desk. Oh, _fuck_. They had been over this. 

"Sebastian, we've known each other for eight years. I could go on for hours about _how wrong_ that would be, and you know I'm right." Kurt let his words hang in the room, finally groaning loudly. "Omaha was a mistake, okay? It was a sleep deprived, alcohol induced, post-trial euphoric decision, one that isn't going to happen again." _Ever._ Which he had said after all of the other times too, but this time he was sticking to it.

Sebastian pursed his lips. "If you say so. You say this every time and you still come back. I thought we were pretty fucking fantastic. One of these days you’re actually going to let me fuck you, you know."

"I didn't ask you, and no I’m not," Kurt snapped. He softened his tone before continuing. "Now, come on, the Schuesters are paying us way too much money for things to get messy between us."

"Duly noted." Sebastian looked Kurt in the eye, and Kurt knew it was. Both of them had too much professional integrity for something as silly as feelings to get in the way. Regardless, Kurt wasn’t sure Sebastian was even capable of feelings. "Game face on, Hummel, let's go meet these newbies."

 

Blaine, Lauren, and Rachel integrated themselves seamlessly into the group, and two weeks in, it was as if they'd always been there. One particular Friday, Kurt was knee deep scouring board meeting transcripts, and there was no way he was getting out of there on time. Other law firms probably would have left all of the transcripts for the paralegals to dig through, but with the firm's small size, Kurt was used to getting his hands dirty. He always thought it prepared him better for the case anyway.

He picked up half of what was left and headed to the office the three new paralegals were sharing, thumping the hard copies down on the table by the door. "I need help going through these, who wants the overtime?" he asked, a bit wearily.

Blaine, of course, volunteered. He had been nothing but polite and professional for the whole two weeks he and Kurt had worked together, and Kurt had already taken a shine to him. He was hardworking, like Brittany had said, and he worked more quickly and efficiently than even Quinn, who worked with Kurt like a well oiled machine after all these years, though he'd never dare tell her. They moved to the conference room after everyone left to spread out, and studied the transcripts in relative silence, searching for any mention of their clients' names.

Blaine's stomach growled loudly after they'd been at work for a while, and Kurt's eyes shot up to the wall clock. It was almost eight already. Shit. "God, I'm sorry, Blaine. I didn't realize it was so late. Sugar usually orders dinner for me when I stay late because I always forget to stop and eat ..." He trailed off, dropping his highlighter and pen on the table and getting up to find the stack of take out menus. 

He found them successfully stashed away near Sugar's desk, and they settled on Thai. It was surprisingly quick for a Friday night, and Kurt pulled his Shrimp Pad Thai and accompanying ginger salad out of the delivery box with a groan that could be considered obscene, informing Blaine of his one rule - no working while they ate. 

"So, Blaine, are you from Chicago?" Kurt asked conversationally as he picked through his salad. 

"No, New York," Blaine answered as he did the same. "I've only been here a since January. My parents are in New York, and my brother is in LA, and I guess I landed somewhere in the middle." He laughed a little before returning to his salad.

No wonder the kid jumped at overtime, Kurt thought. He didn't have any friends in Chicago. He shook his head, bringing himself back to the conversation when he realized Blaine was asking him the same question. "I've been here eight years, since law school, but I grew up in Ohio. Almost made it to New York for college, but settled on Princeton instead."

"Oh, poor you, settling on _Princeton_ ," Blaine replied, but his tone was mischievous and Kurt grinned.

"Such a rough life. I had my heart set on NYADA, though - I know, I know, in high school I thought I could actually make a living as an actor, silly me." Kurt laughed, pausing to lick a bit of the ginger dressing off his hand, and he realized Blaine's tone had grown serious once he started speaking.

"It's not silly at all. Actually, my whole family acts. Nothing major, commercials and bit parts in TV, but - I kind of got burnt out on it by the time I got to college. It somehow wasn't fun anymore."

"Well, that's depressing," Kurt said matter-of-factly, and they both laughed. "Santana and I went to high school together, and she'd gotten into Princeton, with plans to go onto law school - so when NYADA fell through, and I had no back-up plan, I stupidly copied her. Majored in Politics, because my dad was our district's congressman for a few years, and then we both came here to Northwestern. She fed me some line about lawyers really just being actors deep down, putting on a show for the jury of course, and I fell for it. First she couldn't shake me, and then I couldn't shake her. We picked up Sebastian at Northwestern along the way and when the three of us aren't at each other's throats, we're a pretty good team."

"I can see that, just from the short time I've been here. You're all very ... passionate," Blaine said with a small grin as he stabbed a piece of lettuce with his plastic fork. 

"Oh, come on, Blaine, you can say it, we're all crazy here," Kurt replied with a hearty laugh. "That you willingly signed up for the crazy, though, I'm not sure what that says about you."

"I like a challenge," Blaine quipped, and oh, this kid wasn't allowed to be handsome and charming and funny too. It was no secret that witty banter was a turn on for Kurt. The ‘lawyers are just actors’ concept initially drew him to the profession, but Kurt loved words. He loved using them to construct a strong argument, he loved using them to get justice for people who were wronged, but most of all, he loved a good conversation. A good conversation was like foreplay for Kurt.

From the time they'd spent together, Kurt could tell that Blaine was someone who used his words well. They were simple, direct, to the point, but also purposeful. Words sounded good rolling off his tongue. His voice was soothing, somehow.

Basically, Kurt was screwed. 

Kurt realized he'd gotten lost in his Pad Thai (and Blaine's words, and his eyes, and damnit), and he cleared his throat. "So, is that why you became a paralegal? For a challenge?"

Blaine's face twitched and he bowed his head, and shit, Kurt had hit a nerve. No turning back, though. "I actually went to law school. Completed my first year and then deferred."

"Blaine, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Kurt's voice was soft, but not pitying. Kurt thought he knew Blaine well enough to know he wouldn't want that.

"No, it's okay," Blaine said, tossing his empty salad container in the box and pulling out his own meal. "It's just - I wanted to become a lawyer because of the injustice I saw growing up. Some of it happened to me, some of it happened to my friends, some of it just happened. I - I take cases too personally. I get angry. I lose focus. It's not good for me, it's not good for the client."

Kurt chewed a bite of his dinner, thinking over Blaine's words. "Blaine, there are plenty of lawyers who don't try cases."

Blaine's eyes snapped up to meet Kurt's at his words. "No, I know. But, I didn't want to end up splitting up wills or property or - that's not why I wanted to become a lawyer. I wanted to _help people_ \- not that those types of attorneys don't help, but."

"No, I understand. Your heart's in the right place, Blaine." Kurt smiled fondly at him before spearing a shrimp with his fork and popping it in his mouth.

"I like to think so," Blaine said, returning Kurt's smile. "So, I dropped out of law school, went to the local community college for a year - which is so ass-backwards, I know, but I wanted an actual piece of paper to fall back on. And here I am. It's worked out pretty well so far. Still helping people, just behind the scenes."

"Well, you're very good at it, for what it's worth," Kurt said. "Santana's been singing your praises, and I for one am happy to have you around." 

Blaine gave him another smile, this time it genuinely meeting his eyes, before returning to his food. Blaine changed the subject to their case then, and Kurt went with it, figuring they'd shared enough personal information for the night, ignoring his rule of no shop talk during dinner just this once.

 

While Santana and Sebastian would assist Kurt on the Schuester case at trial, they had other cases to wrap up while Kurt and the paralegals were preparing for it. It would take months to collect and research everything they’d need to be ready for trial, and Blaine and Quinn were the paralegals assisting Kurt the most. 

Kurt tried to justify working so closely with Blaine as an excuse to get a better feel for Blaine’s work ethic, even though deep down he knew there was more to it than that. He genuinely enjoyed Blaine’s company on the late nights, and he especially liked learning more about him during their dinner chats. He tried to ignore the pinging in his chest at each new tidbit of information – Blaine used to sing, both in high school and in college a capella groups, Blaine organized his bow ties by color and fabric, Blaine considered himself a romantic at heart, but had ‘no idea what he was doing.’

One brisk Tuesday morning, Kurt brought Blaine along with him to meet with a few witnesses. They finished up around one, and Kurt suggested they grab lunch from a café before heading back to the office.

They collapsed into a booth, Kurt ordering a Cobb salad and Blaine a chicken Caesar, discussing what they needed to get done when they got back to the office. Lunches were the opposite of dinner for Kurt – smack dab in the middle of the day, prime time for work discussions. They were deep in discussion when the waiter brought their salads, and Blaine was just asking something about the School Board (who they were up against in this particular case), when he caught Kurt staring. He set down his knife, stabbing a piece of chicken with his fork, and asked, “What?”

Blaine actually used both a knife and fork to eat his salad. It was kind of adorable. Kurt told him so (minus the adorable part).

“Of course,” Blaine said matter-of-factly, grinning widely (and he had to stop doing that, it just made him even more delightful, Kurt was in so much trouble). “No one wants to sit across from someone biting down on a huge hunk of lettuce!”

Kurt looked down at his own salad. He didn’t speak for a moment, and Blaine asked, “What?” again, laughing a little.

“It’s just –“ _adorable, charming, endearing, perfect,_ “very you,” he settled on, suddenly very self conscious about the bites of salad he was taking. “We’ve ordered Thai like, half a dozen times. I’ve never seen you do that before.”

“Well, the Thai place doesn’t send plastic knives with their cutlery,” Blaine explained, picking up his knife again.

He returned the conversation to the Schuester case, and Kurt tried not to think about how Blaine’s adorable quirks were growing so numerous they were going to need their own file folder soon.

 

Kurt's thirtieth birthday was just around the corner, and instead of heeding his warnings of wanting to do _nothing_ , Sugar had planned him a surprise party at one of the local bars. He would have hated her for it, but everyone from the firm was there, plus Tina and Mike, and Finn and Puck had driven in from Ohio. "Happy Birthday, sweet cheeks," she announced on the Saturday night before his birthday when she'd dragged him to the bar under the pretense of needing to gossip for a bit and not letting him stay cooped up in his apartment on the day before his birth, thirty or not.

"I hate you all!" Kurt shouted at the crowd that was gathered, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face if he tried. They'd commandeered a corner of the bar and Kurt figured he should make introductions. "Alright, our little group has grown, not that we don't miss our Tina dearly," he started, grinning at his friend and pulling her into a quick hug. "The newbies are Blaine, Rachel and Lauren, and this is my stepbrother, Finn, and his business partner, Puck. I think everyone else knows each other," he added with a handwave.

"Yes, we've already been acquainted," Rachel said shyly, meeting Finn's eye, and god, Kurt needed a drink. Fast. 

They settled into barstools, the conversation loud and boisterous and the other bar patrons probably hated them, Kurt was sure of it. "So, let me get this straight," Lauren said, leaning over the corner of the bar. "You four went to high school together?"

"Puck, Finn, Kurt, and I were totes the talk of McKinley High," Santana replied, already slurring her words a little, and Kurt tried to mentally keep track of how many drinks he'd already had - and failed. "Finn's mom married Kurt's dad, what, like junior year? And Puck and I used to _date_ , before I saw the error of my ways and realized I was in love with the ladies." Everyone laughed loudly at that and Puck blew Santana a kiss. 

"And, well, I don't know if you'd consider what Finn and I did dating." Finn's cheeks flushed and Kurt heard Sebastian let out a whoop, even though he'd heard this story at least a dozen times before. "But anyway, Puck and Finn were football players and Kurt and I were _cheerleaders_ -"

"Oh my god, I am not drunk enough for this conversation," Kurt muttered, cutting her off and motioning to the bartender for another round. He met Blaine's eye at the other end of the bar, who quirked his eyebrow at him. Kurt just shook his head and lifted his glass to his mouth, trying to get every last drop of alcohol out of it. "Can we change the conversation to something that's happened in, oh, the last decade?"

"Spoilsport," Santana pouted, but thankfully, she switched topics after that.

After a while, people started excusing themselves to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the bar, first Santana and Brittany, then some lovely Irish stranger asked Sugar to dance, and by the time Kurt excused himself to use the restroom and returned, it was just Blaine sitting at the end of the bar by his lonesome. Puck was dancing with Lauren and Finn with Rachel. Quinn was dancing around Artie's wheelchair while he did some notable dance moves with his arms, and even Sebastian had found some young college looking kid to dance with.

"It's my birthday and I'm the only one not hooking up," Kurt said with a sigh as he settled into the barstool next to Blaine.

"I'm sure we could fix that," Blaine said with a laugh. "Those two guys over on the other side of the room keep looking at us, but I think they think we're together. I could go inform them we're not."

Kurt turned to look in the direction of Blaine's nodding head. The two guys were cute, if a little older than them (and really, who was Kurt to talk, he was _thirty_ ), and normally, Kurt would probably be interested, but he was warm and toasty from the drinks and kind of liked the idea of getting to talk to Blaine alone. 

"That's not -" he started to say when the bartender brought them refills, a vodka tonic for Kurt and club soda with lime for Blaine. "What - why aren't you drinking? Do you not drink?" What if Blaine was some recovering alcoholic and they'd brought him to a _bar_ , he was kind of shifty about his past -

"No, I drink," Blaine quickly said, chuckling at Kurt's probably horrified face. "I just - sometimes I don't make the best decisions when I drink, and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself on my boss's birthday."

" _Blaine_ ," Kurt said, sighing exasperatedly. He placed a hand on Blaine's arm, where his shirt sleeve was rolled up, and Blaine's skin was hot under his fingers, and his bow tie was a little loose around his neck, the top button of his shirt unbuttoned as well, Kurt noticed, and he suddenly had the urge to untie the tie completely. _No,_ Kurt thought, _focus._ "I know I'm technically your boss, but we really are a family. One crazy, dysfunctional, fucked up family. I - I want you to be comfortable around us." 

"I am," Blaine replied, meeting Kurt's gaze, and Blaine's eyes were warm and reassuring and Kurt had to look away before he did something stupid. He signaled for the bartender instead.

"Whatever you want. On me," Kurt said, which was kind of stupid, because he knew Santana and Sebastian would probably just split the tab at the end of the night, like he and Sebastian had done for Santana's thirtieth. Blaine didn't know that, though. 

"Alright, alright!" Blaine said, raising his hands in surrender and ordering a gin and tonic. 

"You are old enough to drink, right?" Kurt teased as he took his first sip.

Blaine's brow furrowed a bit, an amused expression playing on his face. "How old do you think I am?"

"It was a joke, Blaine, I know you're old enough to drink - I don't know, twenty-four, twenty-five?"

Blaine’s eyes grew wide and he laughed. Kurt couldn’t be that off – right? “I’m only a year younger than you. I’ll have to go through the whole turning thirty bit next year.”

“Seriously?” Kurt stared at Blaine’s face, his eyes a bit unfocused, so he squinted instead. “Well, you look damn good for twenty-nine,” he finally said, smiling coyly and shit, was he flirting? 

“Oh, come on, like you really look like you’re thirty,” Blaine countered, taking a sip of his gin and tonic. “Though, by the time my birthday rolls around, you’ll be a pro at the whole being thirty thing. I might need you around to make sure I don’t have a new-decade crisis.”

“It’s a date,” Kurt replied, lifting his own glass to his mouth and sucking on an ice cube, and he was _totally flirting_. He wondered if Blaine could tell; he wasn’t tipsy and delightful like Kurt was. He stared at Blaine for far longer than should be acceptable, and Blaine finally broke their gaze, laughing softly into his glass. 

Their drinks dwindled quickly, since Kurt wasn’t allowing himself to talk for fear of what might slip out. Before he knew it, the bartender was back in front of them with two shot glasses full of what looked suspiciously like tequila and limes to go with them. He was saying something about compliments of someone, and Kurt noticed the guys Blaine had pointed out earlier waving at them. Of course they were. “We – he already poured them, I guess we can’t turn them down,” Kurt said, eyeing the shot glasses wearily after the bartender left.

“Bottoms up,” Blaine said, clinking their glasses together. Kurt grimaced at their tequila buyers from across the room before drinking the shot as fast as he could, coughing as it burned down his throat.

“Oh, god, now I remember why I stopped drinking tequila in law school,” Kurt sputtered, reaching for his empty vodka tonic glass for ice after he’d exhausted the lime. The bartender asked if they wanted another and Blaine said yes before Kurt could find his words.

“Oh no, I think I’ve hit my limit,” Kurt said once he did, pushing his refilled shot glass towards Blaine. “That’s the nice thing about being thirty, you know the line between pleasantly drunk and depressed and hugging the toilet for the rest of the night.”

“Kurt Hummel, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me liquored up to have your way with me,” Blaine teased, and _oh_ , Blaine’s filter was gone too, and Kurt watched wordlessly as he knocked the shots back, trying not to think of all the ways he could have Blaine, in his hands, in his mouth, in his bed. The smallest drop of tequila was dripping from the bow of his mouth, and Kurt had to restrain himself from licking it off or brushing it away with his thumb, handing him a cocktail napkin instead. “Thanks,” Blaine said, a little sheepishly. “That was probably a horrible idea. Tequila and I aren’t exactly friends.”

“Is anyone friends with tequila though, really?” Kurt asked, laughing at Blaine’s pained expression. Blaine ran his tongue over the top of his lip, making sure the napkin had caught any remaining tequila, and suddenly the bar felt small and stifling. Kurt needed to get out, but he didn’t want to leave Blaine quite yet. “I think I really am done for the night,” he said, rattling the ice cubes in his abandoned vodka tonic, “and I could use some fresh air. Walk outside with me?”

Blaine simply nodded, wobbling a little on his feet once he hopped off his barstool, as if all three shots had hit him at once. Kurt reached for his hand to lead him out of the bar, and it was solid and warm in his own. They walked past their coworkers and friends on the dance floor, past the couple who had bought them the shots, and finally, finally, Kurt opened the bar door and was hit with a cool blast of fresh springtime air. They walked down to the corner, and Kurt realized he was still holding Blaine’s hand. He dropped it quickly and knew he was blushing (as if his cheeks weren’t already bright red from the amount of alcohol he’d consumed). 

Blaine was flushed too, Kurt was unsure if it was from the handholding or the tequila, and he raised his hand to scratch at the back of his neck, as if he didn’t know what to do with it now that Kurt wasn’t holding it. Kurt was _thirty years old, goddamn it_ , what was he doing getting flustered by an adorable guy he’d just held hands with? He realized Blaine was speaking, and snapped out of his own thoughts to listen. “Where are we going?” Blaine repeated.

“I – I don’t know. I didn’t have a plan, really, I just needed some air,” Kurt replied, stumbling over his words a little. Blaine opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped, resting his hands on his hips and tilting his head a little, his eyes focusing on something behind Kurt’s head. Kurt turned to see a small restaurant behind them, a clock hanging in the window. It read twelve-oh-three.

“It’s after midnight,” Blaine said, grinning at Kurt. “It’s officially your birthday!”

“I suppose it is,” Kurt mused, matching Blaine’s grin as he turned to face him. Still having no plan, Kurt started to walk vaguely in the direction of his apartment, Blaine following him, their shoulders brushing against each other every few steps. Kurt half-wondered why Blaine was blindly following him, if it was because he was worried about him getting home safely, or that he had actually felt whatever Kurt had felt between them in the bar too. He wasn’t curious enough to actually ask though, so on they went and after walking a block in silence, Blaine finally spoke.

“Alright, I have to ask. You can ask me whatever you’re curious about in fairness but – a _cheerleader_ , really?”

Kurt laughed loudly, looking at their surroundings, faced with an apartment building that was not his own. It had nice, wide stone steps though, and his building or not, Kurt needed to sit. He collapsed on the third step up, and Blaine sat down next to him, close enough so Kurt could feel the heat radiating off of his body, or maybe that was just his imagination, but either way - _distracting_. “I’ll have you know I made red and white polyester look fierce, alright?” 

“I don’t doubt it,” Blaine whispered, leaning his shoulder into Kurt’s, and the tone of his voice was just _sinful_. Kurt suddenly felt a tad uncomfortable in the tight jeans he’d chosen to wear that night, and he shifted slightly on the cool steps.

“Anyway,” Kurt continued, choosing to ignore Blaine’s comment. “My freshman year was hard. I was in glee club, like you, but I was shoved around a lot because of it, and it kind of fell into my lap sophomore year. We won Nationals that year, and my senior year, and it was good. Kept me out of trouble. Kept other kids from harassing me. I don’t know, looking back now, it’s all so embarrassing because I was so self-involved, but what teenager isn’t?”

Blaine nodded, staring at Kurt as if he was hanging on every single word coming out of his mouth. “Can I really ask you whatever I want now?” Kurt asked, voice low and conspiratorial. “I feel like I shafted you because it’s _so_ not an exciting story.”

“What’s fair is fair,” Blaine replied, bumping Kurt’s shoulder with his own again, and he _had to stop doing that_. “Hit me.”

Kurt studied Blaine’s face, wondering if he should really ask the question he wanted to. He barreled forward quickly, before he talked himself out of it. “Just now, back at the bar. When you said you didn’t want to embarrass yourself. What did you mean by that?” Blaine looked surprised for a moment, and then shifted his gaze to the concrete below. Kurt turned his head to stare out at the street, to give Blaine some space. He knew he shouldn’t have asked. In his guilt, he started to ramble. “I mean, from the way you talked, I figured you’d be taking off your clothes and dancing on the bar or something, and you seem fairly normal to me –“

He turned to look at Blaine once more, and stopped his rambling when he saw how close Blaine’s face was to his. “ _Oh_ ,” he whispered softly, unsure what Blaine was doing, but butterflies in his stomach started fluttering all the same. Blaine raised a hand to his cheek, running his thumb over Kurt’s jaw, and Kurt exhaled ever so slightly. His brain suddenly wouldn’t shut up. He was sitting on a random set of steps with his very-adorable-yet-very-drunk coworker, no _paralegal_ , he was Blaine’s boss and Blaine was about to kiss him, which was wrong on _so many levels_ , but – 

Kurt’s mind finally quieted when Blaine actually kissed him, gently at first, just a brush of their lips against each other, until Kurt fisted his hand in Blaine’s rumpled cotton shirt, pulling him in for more, and Blaine let out a low groan against his lips, which was the _sexiest fucking thing_ Kurt had heard in a really long time, maybe in forever. Blaine opened his mouth slightly, and Kurt didn’t hesitate before slipping his tongue in-between his lips, the taste of tequila still strong, but underneath he could just barely make out the taste that had to be uniquely Blaine.

The moment was broken when a door a few buildings down slammed shut and they both jumped back from each other. Blaine sheepishly looked away, running his fingers through his hair, trying unsuccessfully to flatten it back into shape. He dropped his hands to his lap, clearing his throat and still not looking at Kurt. “Um. Yeah. Bad decision making skills when drinking. Like _kissing my boss_ …” 

Kurt couldn’t make out the rest of Blaine’s muttering, something about making it all up in his head, so he decided to stop him right there. “Thank god for tequila,” he said, still a little breathless from Blaine’s kisses. “I don’t know if I would have let myself cross that line no matter how much I fucking wanted to.”

Before Blaine could answer, Kurt leaned back over, placing a finger under Blaine’s chin to tilt his head, placing just one kiss on his lips, firm and reassuring. “Come home with me,” Kurt whispered, barely hearing Blaine’s affirmative answer, the words getting lost in the rustling of the trees as he got up from the steps to hail a cab.

 

Luckily, Sugar had picked a bar close to Kurt’s apartment, so the cab ride was quick, Kurt thrusting a twenty at the driver and telling him to keep the change. Kurt usually enjoyed living in a building with a doorman, but on the very rare occasion he brought someone home, he always felt as if he was secretly being judged. They made it to the elevator without a fuss, however, and Kurt fumbled with his keys, finally letting them both into his humble home on the twelfth floor.

“Ta-da,” Kurt said, flinging the door open, and making a beeline for the kitchen to grab them both aspirin and bottles of water. “Since tequila is not your friend,” he explained, popping the remaining two aspirin in his mouth and placing a hand on the countertop near the sink. He took off his shoes, resting them in the caddy by the door to put away later, and Blaine followed suit.

“You have a nice place,” Blaine said, sounding a little unsure, before unscrewing the cap off his water and downing half of it quickly. Kurt left his near-empty bottle on the counter and figured he could at least show Blaine around to put on the air of some self-control (even though realistically he wanted to get Blaine to his room as soon as possible).

“Thanks,” he said, making eye contact with Blaine as he walked past and then pointing upwards. “I liked the exposed ceilings. There’s so much architecture in Chicago, so much history, I wanted something with a story, you know? The living room, dining room, and kitchen are pretty self-explanatory I guess, and I have an office through there,” Kurt added, waving at the closed door. “Then my bedroom is through here,” he said, glad he finally had Blaine closer to where he wanted him.

Kurt turned around to find Blaine hot on his heels and in his personal space, which was more than welcome, but it caught him off guard. “You don’t seem drunk anymore,” Blaine said, his arms hanging lifeless at his sides, as if this new revelation might change things.

“I’m not,” Kurt replied, because he wasn’t, not really. He was still pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, but between the walk and the cab ride, most of his buzz had worn off. “You’re not either,” he noted. “Did you really think I just brought you home because I was drunk and didn’t want to be alone on my birthday, or something?”

Blaine laughed and took a step forward, Kurt taking a step back to move out of his way. “I don’t know, you seemed pretty insistent on telling me your thoughts on _Chicago architecture_ …”

Kurt took another few steps back, pretending to be outraged. “Oh, _fuck you_ ,” Kurt yelped, continuing to walk backwards, Blaine stepping forward in time to keep up with him. Kurt had spent far too many years drinking with Sebastian and Santana, their horrible vocabulary rubbing off on him. He really should do something about that, but he saw Blaine’s eyes darken at his words. Maybe not. 

More steps backwards, and he grabbed for Blaine’s arm to try to steady himself, which felt strong and muscular under the sleeve of his shirt. “What do you propose we do _instead_ , Blaine?” and as if on cue, the back of his legs hit his mattress and he went tumbling down on top of it. He might not have been drunk any longer, but he was far from stone cold sober, and didn’t possess the reflexes to right himself.

“Mmm, I don’t know, you seem to have figured it out,” Blaine said as Kurt struggled to sit back upright on the edge of the bed. Blaine was close enough that Kurt could reach his askew bow tie, swiftly untying it and letting it hang at either side of his collar. 

“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” Kurt murmured, running his fingers over the newly exposed skin at Blaine’s open collar. “You’re usually so much more put together, it was like it was _teasing_ me, a little glimpse of what you’d look like if you let loose a little –“

Blaine raised an eyebrow as if Kurt had challenged him. “You don’t think I ever let loose.” It was a statement, not a question.

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” Kurt protested, but before he could explain further Blaine was pushing him back on the bed, kissing him fast and insistent, and hell, Blaine could think whatever he wanted, as long as he kept kissing him like that, like he had something to prove. He didn’t need to prove _anything_ to Kurt, but even so, kissing his way into Kurt's mouth was kind of insanely hot, as if he was committing everything his lips and tongue touched to memory. 

“God, this is better than I imagined,” Kurt breathed out as Blaine tugged at his hair, exposing Kurt’s neck enough to get at with his mouth. Blaine’s mouth slowed, sucking on the same spot above Kurt’s collar, and Kurt kept putting his foot in his mouth, didn’t he? “I need to shut my damn mouth,” Kurt muttered, and he swore he felt Blaine chuckle against his skin. 

“You’ve thought about this before?” Blaine grunted against his throat, and Kurt nodded, not trusting his mouth to not betray him. “Prove it,” Blaine insisted, pulling back far enough to see Kurt’s face. “Tell me what you want, birthday boy.” 

Kurt groaned and arched his back, hips seeking friction that was nowhere to be found, so he reached up to grip that perfect ass he first saw eight weeks ago leaving the break room. It felt amazing, as expected, firm, taut muscle under his flattened palms, and he rolled his hips up against Blaine’s, Blaine’s half-hard cock brushing over his hip, and at some point along the line, he realized he hadn’t answered Blaine’s question.

“Oh, Blaine, we don’t have enough time to do all the things I’ve thought of, and I don’t have nearly enough patience tonight.” Blaine was staring at him, waiting with his eyes wide and mouth slightly gaping. Kurt let go of Blaine’s ass with one hand, tracing his thumb along Blaine’s lower lip. “You’ve proven that you’re especially good with your mouth so far, though.” 

Blaine’s face brightened, laughing slightly before drawing Kurt’s thumb into his mouth, sucking gently and then swirling his tongue around it. He pulled it into his mouth further, sucking all the while, running his tongue in circles on the pad, and maybe it was because Kurt was still a little tipsy, but it felt as if his hand was hardwired to his cock, a long, invisible current connecting it to Blaine’s mouth. “Blaine Anderson, you better not be a tease,” Kurt said, not finding it in himself to withdraw his thumb from Blaine’s lips. 

Blaine dropped his mouth open enough to coax Kurt’s hand away, leaning all of his weight on one of his arms to reach down and cup Kurt through his far too many layers of clothing. “I would never tease you, Kurt Hummel. Trust me, I’ve got you,” he murmured, squeezing tightly around Kurt’s cock.

Clothes were shed then, shirts and pants and finally, finally, Blaine was nosing at Kurt’s hipbones and fumbling with Kurt’s belt. Kurt couldn’t remember the last time he’d been comfortable enough with someone to relinquish control in the bedroom, take whatever his partner gave to him, and he wasn’t sure why he felt that way in only _two short months_ of knowing Blaine. It was perfect, though – it was his birthday after all.

Blaine’s little preview earlier was nothing in comparison to the real thing. Let loose he did, and others might have considered him sloppy, but Kurt thought it was _wonderful_. Blaine started out slow, sucking at the head of Kurt’s cock gently, before running his tongue down the underside and taking as much as he could in his mouth. Kurt’s hips began to rock, pushing him further and further into Blaine’s mouth but Blaine didn’t hold him down, he just took more of Kurt’s cock down his throat, and Kurt finally had to tangle his fingers in Blaine’s gelled-down curls just to steady himself. Blaine’s mouth was so tight and wet around him with just the perfect amount of suction, and it had been _months_ since Kurt had had decent sex, so he wasn’t going to last long even with alcohol involved.

Blaine trailed the hand wrapped around the base of Kurt’s cock down further, stroking his balls as he passed, but settling on Kurt’s ass, gripping tightly and pulling Kurt deeper into his mouth, and when Kurt felt Blaine’s throat relaxing around him, he was done for.

He tugged sharply at Blaine's hair to warn him, and he pulled off just before Kurt came, pumping him through his orgasm with his hand. Before Kurt could even catch his breath, Blaine moved his hand to his own cock, jerking off with what was left of Kurt’s come on his hand, and _as hot as that was_ , Kurt wasn’t missing the chance to return the favor.

He pushed a hand flat against Blaine’s chest to roll him on his back and covered Blaine’s hand with his own. “Let me,” he whispered, and he was quick to replace their hands with his mouth. 

“I’m so close already, Kurt, I’m not going to last,” Blaine said as Kurt sunk his mouth down as far as he could go, tasting his own come on Blaine’s cock, which was a first, but kind of hot. True to his word, Blaine was fisting his hands in Kurt’s hair before Kurt had even brought his hand into the mix, and Kurt knew he should pull off but he couldn’t bring himself to, only removing his mouth when Blaine’s hips were pulling back from oversensitivity. Blaine let out a short chuckle as Kurt climbed up to the pillows next to him, feeling fairly punch drunk as well.

Kurt let out a yawn loud enough for his jaw to crack audibly, and Blaine raised a hand to his cheek, rubbing softly. “There, there, old man,” Blaine teased, and Kurt croaked out a _fuck you_ , though it held nowhere near the same candor it had earlier.

“You’re staying, right?” Kurt asked, and Blaine hummed in response, and that was the last thing Kurt remembered before he drifted off to sleep. 

 

Kurt was rudely awakened by the sound of his cell phone ringing far too early for any Sunday, but especially his birthday. He groaned, realizing he’d forgotten to set it to silent before falling into bed that night – but in his defense, he had been a little preoccupied. He shot up, only then noticing the still naked, still sleeping Blaine, just as gorgeous as ever even with the rumpled hair. He padded to the foot of the bed, searching for his pants, and found his phone still lodged in the pocket. Sugar’s bright and happy face filled the screen and he groaned again before answering. “Hello?” he croaked, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Oh, _good_ , you’re alive!” she proclaimed, and Kurt could have sworn he heard clapping in the background. “As your hostess, what kind of person would I be if I didn’t make sure you got home okay?”

Kurt paused to try and pull on his boxer briefs from the night before. “I’m fine. Slightly hungover and not awake, but fine.” He noticed Blaine finally stirring at his words, sitting up and looking as if he had no clue where he was. His eyes finally locked on Kurt and Kurt mouthed an apology, pointing at his phone. “Sorry I didn’t say goodnight, it seemed as if everyone was … otherwise engaged.”

Sugar giggled at him. “Honey, I am _never_ too engaged for little old you! Do you know where Blaine went? He disappeared too!”

Kurt turned back around to see Blaine still trying to wake up, sitting on the edge of Kurt’s bed and attempting to run a hand through his hair. He couldn’t tell Sugar that Blaine was sitting right next to him. “We, uh – we shared a cab when we left. I got dropped off first, but I assume he made it home alright.” Kurt hoped that his lie made sense – he realized he had no idea where Blaine even lived.

“He took a _cab_? Oh, that probably cost him a fortune … you’re sure he took the cab the whole way home?”

Shit. “No, Sugar, I’m not, I just know – that’s where I last saw him.” Kurt flopped back into the bed against his pillows. He needed to get her off the phone.

“Oh, well I suppose I should just call him. You have any exciting plans for the big day, Mr. Thirty?”

Kurt gazed at Blaine’s back where he was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He would be perfectly content to not leave his bed all day if Blaine was up for the idea – Blaine wasn’t looking his way, but they had been rudely awakened. “I’m not sure. I have a few options. I should probably go figure that out, see you tomorrow?”

Once Kurt disconnected the call, he asked Blaine, somewhat loudly, “Where on earth do you live?” He saw Blaine’s shoulders shake with laughter, Blaine still not turning to face him.

“Jefferson Park. It’s not _that far_ \- Sugar just thinks anything that isn’t downtown is a nightmare.” 

Kurt watched as Blaine pulled on his underwear and pants – _damn_ – and as if on cue, his phone rang. “Hello, my sweetness,” Blaine answered, pouring on the charm, and no wonder everyone loved him. “No, no, I had the cabbie drop me off at the L, everything’s fine.”

Kurt tuned out the rest of their conversation – no wonder Blaine was always at work early, his commute had to be over forty-five minutes including getting to and from the L, he probably left early to account for any problems along the way. Too bad the blue line ran twenty-four seven, he couldn’t use the excuse of trains not running so early to get Blaine to stay.

He realized Blaine was off the phone and asking him a question, clothes gathered in hand. If he could use Kurt’s bathroom, or should he use the one in the hall. “No, go on,” Kurt replied, waving him in the direction of the door. Blaine’s tone sounded … Kurt wasn’t going to over think things, he wasn’t, but it certainly wasn’t the cheerful tone he’d used with Sugar. 

He figured he should give Blaine some space, just in case, and threw on his shirt, heading to the kitchen to busy himself with making coffee. He heard his bathroom door open just as the pot began to brew, and Blaine must have noticed the smell. “I wasn’t sure if you’d have a coffee pot, with the way you keep Intelligentsia in business with your daily nonfat mocha.” Blaine rounded the corner from the bedroom, fully dressed and fussing with his hair some more – it looked as if he’d run some water through it. Kurt hadn’t heard the shower, and there hadn’t been enough time. 

He took a moment to process Blaine’s words. Wait. “You know my coffee order?” he asked, perplexed. He always picked up his coffee himself, and then had refills throughout the day from the office coffee machine, but he couldn’t remember a time he discussed his coffee habits with Blaine, even though they’d run into each other a few times before work at Intelligentsia. 

“Of course I do,” Blaine answered as Kurt turned to grab two mugs from his top shelf. “I should probably go, get out of your hair. I’m sure you have a busy day planned.”

Kurt paused, setting the second mug back. Blaine probably hadn’t seen, the cabinet door in the way – and when Kurt turned back around, he was sure of it. Blaine wasn’t even looking in his direction. He was suddenly very interested in his shoes. “Oh,” Kurt said, unsure of what to say. _Do not make this any more awkward than it has to be_ , he thought to himself. “Uh. Sure. You want any coffee before you go?”

Blaine shook his head, still avoiding Kurt’s gaze. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer, though. See you at the office tomorrow?” He finally looked up, briefly, and headed for the door before Kurt had even responded.

Kurt tried to school his face into a neutral expression – the last thing he wanted to do was turn into the crazy guy who wanted something more out of a one night stand when the other didn’t, especially when he was Blaine’s _boss_. “Yeah. Tomorrow. Thanks for ... everything,” he finished lamely, locking the door behind Blaine as he left.

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, Kurt thought bitterly.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt met Finn for breakfast an hour and a half later at Yolk – the only good thing about being up early on a Sunday was beating the brunch crowd, and though he was fairly certain he’d pulled Finn away from something, he didn’t really care. It was his birthday and he didn’t get to see his stepbrother nearly enough and perhaps if they hadn’t been so rudely awakened by Sugar, things would have worked out differently and he wouldn’t have had to bother Finn so early, but it had, so he did.

(Not that Kurt was letting himself play the ‘what if’ game. That never ended well. Never.)

Finn was late, even though Kurt had given him plenty of notice, but Kurt didn’t mind. He secured a table, sipping on coffee and orange juice while he waited, and when Finn showed up, there was no question about it – Kurt had pulled him away from someone of the female persuasion.

Some things might have changed since high school, but Finn’s stupid happy post-coital expression hadn’t.

Kurt tried not to think of how Finn and Rachel had been dancing together the night before at the bar. Another thought that wouldn’t end well.

Luckily, he’d barely seen Finn since Christmas, so there was plenty to talk about while easily avoiding whatever had happened the night before. Carole and how she’d been busy getting her garden ready for the summer, how the pool cleaning business Finn and Puck ran was busy enough now that neither Finn nor Puck had personally cleaned a pool all spring thanks to their growing staff and how they were thinking of expanding, opening a branch maybe Toledo or Ft. Wayne. How Kurt was staying put and not traveling for the remainder of the year and how he should drive out to Lima to visit. 

Once the waitress brought Kurt’s eggs Benedict and Finn’s bacon waffle, the conversation stayed on Kurt’s work, and Kurt explained more about the new paralegals, trying to keep things as vague as possible. He didn’t want to seem as if he was revealing more than he should know about Blaine or give Finn info he shouldn’t have about Rachel. The few times he did mention Rachel, he could see Finn’s eyes light up. 

“Have you ever heard Blaine or Rachel sing?” Finn asked before stuffing a huge piece of syrup coated waffle in his mouth.

Sing? “No, do they?” Kurt asked, even though he knew Blaine had sung in high school and college, and he thought he heard something about Rachel too – but nothing currently.

Finn looked a little like he’d been caught in the headlights. “Uh. I mean. Rachel just mentioned last night – at the bar – that she usually sings at open mic night at some other bar most Saturdays. And she’d convinced Blaine to go with her a few times and they were working on Sugar. Just didn’t know if you or Santana had maybe been since you guys used to sing in Cheerios routines for Nationals and stuff.”

Kurt stabbed a breakfast potato, mulling over the info. He couldn’t blame Blaine for not inviting him along – he had told Blaine he’d wanted to be an actor in New York after all, but he hadn’t mentioned he could also sing. It probably should have been a given, but there were stage actors in New York City, after all. “No, I didn’t realize they did that. Interesting.” They ate in silence for a bit, Finn realizing he’d probably said something wrong, and Kurt didn’t want him to feel bad. “Finn, you know I’m not angry at you for – _anything_ , right? I’m just cranky about turning thirty.” Well, that was part of the reason at least.

“No, I know, man. We’re cool.” Finn offered him a grin and they didn’t talk about Blaine or Rachel for the rest of the meal. 

 

Kurt first realized something was wrong that night after dinner. He’d stopped by the grocery store after his breakfast with Finn, picking up a bottle of wine and a few things to make dinner for himself. He didn’t have the time to cook nearly enough and still enjoyed spending time in the kitchen. He’d also picked up a single slice of cheesecake from Eli’s while he was out, and while he was enjoying it in front of the TV with one last glass of wine, he felt his stomach gurgle.

By midnight, he hadn’t left the bathroom in hours and had a text from Finn saying he wasn’t feeling so hot either and Carole mentioned that it looked like the flu.

By five-thirty, Kurt was fairly certain he’d emptied the full contents of his stomach, and he knew Sugar would already be up. She got up early every morning weekdays to work out at the gym. “What’s up buttercup?” she asked cheerily when she answered. He could hear the treadmill running in the background.

“I think I have the flu,” he croaked. “I’ve been up all night and Finn has the flu and I’m guessing he gave it to me.”

“Well, that’s an awful birthday present! You just stay home and get better, honey! Call Quinn later if you think you need to, but you stay home!”

“Yeah,” Kurt replied, because there was _no way_. “If anyone else comes down with it, send them home, Sugar. The last thing I want is this making the rounds at the office. Today and tomorrow at least.”

“You got it! You go to sleep and we’ll call and check on you later, sweetie, okay? Don’t die on me, I like your face!”

Kurt fell into bed and didn’t wake up until almost five when Sugar called him back. He’d slept for almost twelve hours. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept that long. Sugar said she’d just left his place. She’d left a box with the doorman with things she thought he might need, and she’d called all of his meetings for the next three days and rescheduled them for next week, or in the case of one very irate Mrs. Rosenthal, Santana met with her personally. Quinn and Blaine were fine on the Schuester case, though concerned (and he wondered how much concern was Blaine’s and how much was Quinn’s) and Rachel had called out sick as well (he really wasn’t surprised).

Kurt called downstairs and told the doorman to leave the box outside his door, so he wouldn’t get sick either, and when he found the strength to go out and fetch it, he found boxes of cold and flu medicine, a thermometer, saltine crackers, rice and broth from his favorite Chinese restaurant, a few bottles of Gatorade, a loaf of bread for toast, boxes of Kleenex, and a note with Sugar’s swirly handwriting and a smiley face. It looked like Brittany had doodled flowers on it. 

Kurt took his temperature – one hundred and two – and popped two of the nighttime cold and flu gelcaps from their plastic and foil packaging, swallowing them down with some Gatorade, and put what needed to be kept cold in the refrigerator before collapsing back into bed.

By Wednesday afternoon, Kurt was feeling almost human again. His fever had broken late Tuesday night, and Wednesday he was actually able to eat some of the food Sugar had sent aside from just Gatorade and saltines. He took a shower and washed his hair and stripped his bed and put the sheets in the wash and moved to the couch for a change of scenery. He’d spoken with Quinn earlier in the day to go over a few things (and he knew he was going to have to go to the office on Saturday to get caught up from the three days he’d missed, even though he'd be in on Thursday and Friday) and was half-engrossed in a trashy reality TV show when his phone rang.

It was a New York area code, a number he didn’t recognize. He rejected the call, sending it straight to voicemail, figuring if it was anyone important, a message would be left.

He listened for the tell-tale voicemail bleep, and wasted no time swiping his fingers over the screen to listen. _Hey_ , Kurt heard and he recognized the voice instantly. Blaine. _I, ah, got your number from Brittany, I hope that’s okay. I know she said you’ll be in tomorrow, I just – I know Sugar brought you some stuff on Monday, but if you need anything, let me know, I can bring you soup or something, or just keep you company if you’re going crazy being cooped up. I – I don’t even know why I called, really, but, call me back if you want, or I’ll see you tomorrow._

Kurt’s stomach grumbled at the mention of soup. He hadn’t had a fever in almost twenty-four hours, and even though he could call the deli down the street and they’d deliver chicken soup right to the doorman, he was going a little crazy with almost no human contact in over three days. It also didn’t help that the cold medicine Sugar had bought kept him pleasantly loopy - she must have had to sign her life away for it.

He pressed the button to call Blaine back – he still wasn’t quite sure why, this was the same man who couldn’t get away from him fast enough just a few days ago, and he had almost talked himself into hanging up when Blaine answered (in retrospect, hanging up would have been a nightmare the next day).

“Hi,” Kurt breathed out when Blaine said his name on the other end. “Have you all self destructed at the office without me?”

Kurt heard Blaine laugh, and damnit, why did he have to have such a nice laugh? “We’ve held down the fort. You up for some soup and company?”

Kurt found himself saying sure, and calling the doorman to let Blaine up when he arrived. He turned off the TV and walked around, making sure his place looked semi presentable and putting a clean set of sheets on his bed, and half-wondered if he should change. He was wearing a Northwestern tee and sweatpants that had to be ten years old, but they were soft and broken in and _perfect_ for sick days. The outfit and his flat, lifeless hair made him look awful, but before he could really worry about that, there was a soft knock on the door.

Blaine was dressed impeccably, of course, in his standard uniform of an oxford shirt, bow tie, and dress pants, holding two Intelligentsia cups and a brown paper bag. He thrust one of the cups in Kurt’s direction. “Decaf nonfat mocha. I figured you didn’t need the caffeine, but you were probably jonesing.”

Kurt took the cup from him and inhaled the familiar scent, a bit too deeply, because he promptly began to cough from the sudden intake of air. “You sure you want to come in?” he asked, wheezing a little.

Blaine came through the door and shut and locked it behind him, leading Kurt back to the couch. “Sugar said your fever broke yesterday. I’m sure you’re not contagious.” He sat down in the armchair next to the couch and began unloading the soup from the paper bag, along with some crusty sourdough bread. Kurt was quiet as they ate their soup, letting Blaine fill him in on what had happened at the firm in the past three days. Luckily, he hadn’t actually missed much, but it would be nice going in the following day a little more prepared. 

Once they finished, Blaine gathered all the trash and carried it to the kitchen, and Kurt decided to lie down, propping his head against the throw pillows and the arm of the couch so he could still see Blaine once he sat back down, what was left of his mocha warming his hands. “You’re kind of a weird guy, did you know that?” Kurt said as Blaine settled in the chair, and a little voice at the very back of his head told him he should be very, very worried about his lack of filter.

“Oh, really?” Blaine said, sounding amused and leaning forward on his knees, his own coffee cup sitting on the table. “Do tell why I’m so weird.”

“Because the last time you were here, you couldn’t get out of here fast enough, and now, here you are, bringing me soup and coffee like we’re friends.” Silence. “ _Oh my god, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. I am never taking cold medicine from Sugar again_ ,” Kurt said quickly, all in one breath, willing himself to stare at the ceiling. Maybe if he closed his eyes, when he opened them Blaine would be gone. This was all some crazy, drug-induced dream.

Yet when he opened them, Blaine was still there, looking _worried_ , and no, he didn’t get to look worried, that wasn’t fair. “Okay, Blaine, I think the time has come for me to say thanks for the dinner and get back to bed. I’m obviously a bit delirious. Let me walk you to the door.” He sat up far too fast and fell back down against the pillows. “As soon as the room stops spinning.”

Kurt shut his eyes tightly and tried to count to ten to let his equilibrium right itself a bit, trying to control his breathing, but his eyes cracked opened slightly when he felt the couch cushions dip. Blaine was suddenly next to him, his expression full of pity, and Kurt wasn’t sure which was worse. “ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt tried to say, but Blaine shushed him, placing a single finger to his lips which just reminded Kurt of Blaine sucking on his on Saturday night. _God, he was really out of it._

“I – I should probably apologize,” Blaine started, and he looked nervous – why was Blaine nervous? “I shouldn’t have run out of here like that. I thought – I guess I thought if I left it would make things less awkward the next day. That if I was the one who left, I wouldn’t have to put you in a bad position. But, then you didn’t come in, and at first I thought I’d just made things _really awkward_ , but you were sick, of course…” Blaine trailed off and used his fingers to brush Kurt’s bangs out of his face. They felt cool against his forehead, a welcome change, kind of comforting. 

Kurt closed his eyes to the touch and sighed. “Blaine, you don’t have to explain yourself,” he murmured, as Blaine continued running his fingers through Kurt’s hair, soft and gentle.

“No, I know, I want to.” Blaine didn’t speak for a few minutes, just kept moving his hand through Kurt’s hair. Kurt normally didn’t let people touch his hair. It was usually filled with a decent amount of product, and perfectly coiffed, but now it was freshly washed and product free, and after having no human interaction at all since his breakfast with Finn, it felt absolutely wonderful. “When I found out you were really sick, I felt bad. If I had just not been an ass, I could have come over and taken care of you. I have this … thing about taking care of the people I care about. I know Sugar brought you stuff … but I also know you were here alone.”

Kurt opened his eyes at Blaine’s words and saw him smiling slightly. He smiled back, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest (because, hello, of course Blaine cared about him, he was _there_ ) and shut his eyes again, leaning a little bit into Blaine’s touch. “You would have just gotten sick yourself,” he pointed out, “though it’s your fault I met Finn for breakfast. I was going to blow him off and stay here with you, but …”

“I got a flu shot this year, I would have risked it.” Kurt could hear the smile in Blaine’s voice, his fingertips still dancing over Kurt’s scalp. His hand stilled for a moment and Blaine said, “And I’m sorry about that, Kurt, I truly am. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“You can start by going back to petting my hair,” Kurt said softly, and Blaine chuckled, following Kurt’s request. “You really don’t owe me anything, though, you know that, right?”

“Yep.” They sat quietly for a while, Blaine continuing to stroke Kurt’s hair, Kurt feeling so comfortable that he almost drifted off to sleep. At some point, Blaine must have taken the coffee cup from his hands without him realizing, because it was magically gone. “Alright, sleepyhead,” Blaine said eventually, his voice low and soothing. “I think you’ve entertained enough for the day. Time to get you back in bed.”

“Mmm,” Kurt murmured, because his bed did sound nice. Before he could find the strength to get up though, he felt Blaine’s arms around him, lifting him off the couch. “Blaine!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing? You can’t _carry me_.”

“Sure I can,” Blaine replied, and Kurt opened his eyes to see Blaine grinning at him. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“And I’m heavier than I look. I’m all dead weight …” Kurt trailed off then, because Blaine was actually carrying him to the bedroom and that was impressive, because Kurt had at least two inches on the guy. He remembered Blaine’s strong arms from Saturday night, the strong arms he felt under his shoulders and knees now, and huffed when Blaine finally laid him down on the right side of the bed. “Show off,” he muttered, but he couldn’t help giving him a small smile. Blaine was still grinning wildly and not denying Kurt’s accusation.

“Do you want me to tuck you in?” Blaine asked sweetly, and Kurt was torn between wanting to smack him and being extremely touched. “Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?”

“No, I’m too hot from the coffee and the soup.” _And the strong, warm arms that carried me here._ “And that would be nice. Can you get the fan?” Kurt asked, motioning towards the ceiling.

Blaine pulled one cord to turn off the light and then the other to turn on the fan before removing his shoes and hopping on the bed next to Kurt. “You don’t have to stay all the way over there,” Kurt said, launching an arm across the bed at Blaine, it landing softly in between them on the mattress. “Unless you’re worried about getting sick.”

“I wasn’t sure if you were too hot to cuddle,” Blaine said, taking Kurt’s hand and closing the gap between them. Kurt knew he should probably move closer to Blaine as well, but was far too lazy, letting Blaine pull him until his head rested on Blaine’s chest and their sides were flush against each other. 

“I’m never too hot for you,” Kurt mumbled against Blaine’s chest, and then realized how his words sounded. “Wait, that’s not what I meant.”

“You’re always too hot for me then?” Blaine teased, his fingers dancing in Kurt’s hair once more. “Or you’re always hot _for_ me? I like that one better.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Kurt scoffed and he could feel Blaine’s laughter ruffle his hair.

“You must be feeling better if you’re able to throw insults my way.” Kurt was feeling a bit better than he had when Blaine arrived. He was still tired, almost tired enough to fall asleep. He felt so nice and cozy tucked under Blaine’s arm and was content to stay that way.

“Something like that.”

Kurt wasn’t sure when he actually fell asleep, but he awoke to Blaine solid and warm underneath him and his legs were wrapped around one of Blaine’s. He wasn’t entirely sure what he’d been dreaming about either since his brain was still plenty hazy from the cold medicine, but he realized a few moments after waking that his dick was pressed up against Blaine’s hip – and he was hard. He sat up quickly, startling Blaine, who tried to shush him and coax him back down to the bed. “Shhh, it’s okay, did you have a nightmare?”

Kurt tried not to laugh as Blaine rubbed soothingly at his back. A nightmare. Right. “No, I’m just … not used to waking up next to anyone.”

Yes, because _that_ sounded so much better.

“What time is it?” he asked to change the subject, his throat still a little harsh from sleep and his voice coming out scratchy. 

“A little after eight. You slept over an hour.” Kurt groaned, trying to focus on Blaine’s hand on his back and the rapid beating of his heart and trying to ignore anything else. 

“Did you just … lie here with me?” Kurt asked once his heart rate had calmed a little. “How boring, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad you got some more sleep.” Kurt refrained from pointing out he’d probably slept more than he usually did in a week over the past three days. Blaine’s hand stilled, his palm flat against the middle of Kurt’s back. “You okay? You seem awfully … tense.”

“Yeah, I just can’t seem to get comfy, I guess,” Kurt answered lamely, shifting a bit in an attempt to try to get comfortable – an attempt he knew would fail. 

“Well, it’s your bed and you’re _sick_ , we have to find a way to make you comfortable. Get back over here,” Blaine said, and he pulled Kurt closer, back to his original position. If he hadn’t felt Kurt’s erection before, he certainly had now. “Hey, stop that,” Blaine protested when Kurt stiffened in his arms even more, clucking his tongue at him. “It’s okay, just relax.” He ran his fingers through Kurt’s hair, trying to soothe him, even dropping a kiss on the top of his head. 

Kurt tried with all his might to actually relax, but it was suddenly even hotter in the room than before, and Blaine was so close and Kurt’s dream kept coming back to him in flashes, snippets of him pounding into Blaine and his perfect, perfect ass in the very bed they were lying in, which certainly didn’t help his hard on situation. 

“Kurt,” Blaine started, laying Kurt against the pillows and inching down so his face was flush with Kurt’s. “Kurt, you’re shivering a little, are you okay? Are you cold? I can turn off the fan.”

Kurt hadn’t even realized it, but he was trembling, just barely, so he wouldn’t give in and start rutting up against Blaine’s side like he wanted to. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess,” he replied with a shaky laugh. “I think – I probably just need to go back to sleep.”

“Oh, Kurt,” Blaine murmured, placing a soft kiss on Kurt’s temple. Kurt would have normally been embarrassed at the whine that came out of his mouth at the contact, but he was temporarily past the point of caring. As Blaine moved to kiss the other side of Kurt’s forehead, his arms wrapped around Kurt’s shoulders, his palms flat against Kurt’s back once more, just slight pressure that felt so comforting and _good_. “Kurt, it’s okay, you should … you should let me take care of you.” Blaine’s words were hesitant at first, as if he was worried about how Kurt would take them. 

“But I’m sick,” Kurt whimpered feebly, pretty much just protesting for the sake of protesting. It seemed like the right thing to do, even though he wanted Blaine, possibly even more than he had on Saturday, and how messed up was that? 

“I know you are, silly,” Blaine replied, his voice warm but not even a tiny bit patronizing. “Let me try to make you feel a little bit better.”

Kurt didn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded and shut his eyes, hearing Blaine exhale sharply when he did. Suddenly, Blaine’s lips were gentle and soft against his and Kurt finally relaxed, melting against him. “That’s more like it,” Blaine whispered against his mouth, and Kurt laughed, wheezing slightly at the sudden change in his breathing.

Kurt lost track of how long they kissed, the slow drag of their lips against each other. Blaine never tried to deepen their kisses, and ignored any attempts on Kurt’s part to do so. “Blaine,” Kurt finally whispered in between, and Blaine hummed happily into the next one in response. “I’m sick, but I’m not dead.”

Instead of retorting back, Blaine simply parted his lips slightly, just enough for Kurt’s tongue to slip through. Blaine’s hands were still moving deftly over Kurt’s back, slowly up to his shoulders and then back down to his waist. Kurt found his fingers tugging at Blaine’s bow tie, which was already a little loose. Blaine grunted slightly when Kurt’s fingers pulled, kisses slightly off-center afterwards and Kurt filed that information away for later. “You should get comfortable too, you know.”

Kurt watched as Blaine’s fingers quickly worked at the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt and pants, getting up to drop them all on the floor along with his bow tie and socks, climbing back into bed only wearing a tight white undershirt and similarly tight dark boxer briefs. Kurt’s hands reached out to grip Blaine’s tiny waist, but he batted them away. “I wasn’t kidding about wanting to take care of _you_.”

Kurt relented, letting Blaine kiss down his neck and into the dip of his tee shirt. Blaine’s hands slid under his shirt, his palms cool even though it seemed as if he’d had his hands on Kurt in some way or fashion for hours. He nudged his knee against Kurt’s, sliding a leg between his, and _oh_ , that was it, that was the pressure Kurt needed. Kurt made the same awful whining noise as he had when Blaine first kissed him, and Blaine chuckled and shushed him, running his hands higher under Kurt’s shirt, fingertips catching on his nipples. Kurt’s hips stuttered forward at the contact, his cock rutting up against Blaine’s thigh, his hands reaching out to Blaine’s biceps to steady himself. 

“How are you so stunning,” Blaine whispered against the hollow just under Kurt’s ear, placing a kiss to punctuate his words, “when you’re not even feeling well?” Kurt normally would have rolled his eyes at Blaine’s words, but instead he sighed and leaned even further into his touch. He’d worked himself up so much before Blaine kissed him that he knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he didn’t expect to come with no warning mere seconds after Blaine slipped his hand between his threadbare sweatpants and his skin. 

“ _Fuck_.” The words were barely out of Kurt’s mouth before Blaine was covering it with his own, kissing him just as soft as before. “That was … unexpected,” Kurt added when they broke, turning his face into the pillow and groaning a little.

“It’s okay,” Blaine said with a laugh, his fingers scratching at the base of Kurt’s neck. “ _You’re sick_ , and it’s not like that wasn’t the intended outcome all along.”

“Next time will be more thrilling, I swear.” _If there is a next time._ Kurt turned slightly to meet Blaine’s eye again, and he was grinning wildly, like he was holding back a juicy secret. “What?” Blaine’s grin was contagious and Kurt couldn’t help smiling a bit back at him.

“Oh, nothing,” Blaine said slowly, and he was really having too much fun with this, wasn’t he? “Just earlier, while you were asleep – let’s just say I got the general idea of what was probably happening in your dreams.”

Kurt’s eyes grew wide and he resisted the urge to bury his head back in the pillows once more. He rarely talked in his sleep, but he didn’t doubt it being a crazy side effect of the medication Sugar sent him. _No taking that back, might as well own it._ “It’s all your fault for having such a nice ass. You are aware of that fact, right?” Kurt asked, raising his eyebrows at him.

“I think I’ve heard that one before,” Blaine replied, his grin turning wicked, before dropping his voice. “It’s always nice to have someone who appreciates it.”

Kurt turned back against the pillows to groan, because Blaine just couldn’t _tease_ him like that. In his wallowing, he was not-so-pleasantly reminded that he had, in fact, come in his sweatpants and he should do something about that. “I should probably take another shower,” he said into the pillow.

“I should probably help you,” Blaine added quickly, gaping a bit when Kurt looked at him suspiciously. “What? You might get overheated again. I should be there just in case.” 

Kurt clucked his tongue, but let Blaine follow him into the bathroom regardless. He started the shower and stared at his reflection in the mirror while the water heated. “God, I look awful,” he stated, poking a finger at his paler-than-usual skin. Thankfully, he was distracted by Blaine shedding his underclothes in the mirror behind him. 

“Do not,” Blaine protested, and he came up behind Kurt, helping him out of his tee shirt and sticky sweatpants. Kurt watched in the mirror, oddly entranced by Blaine undressing him and dropping a kiss to his shoulder. “Come on,” Blaine said, tugging him away, “it must be warm by now?”

It was, and actually almost too hot since Blaine did have a point about overheating in Kurt’s weakened state. Kurt fiddled with the knobs to turn down the heat and stood under the spray as Blaine climbed in behind him. He let the water fall down his chest, breathing the steam in, before turning around and actually taking all of Blaine in for the first time. Blaine was naked – _obviously_ – and still hard. He hadn’t come earlier. Kurt knew he should have remembered that, but it hadn’t actually occurred to him. “Someone should take care of that,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of Blaine’s cock and stepping out of the spray so he could switch places with Blaine and soap up.

“You’re sick,” Blaine mentioned for what seemed like the hundredth time that night before ducking his head under the spray to wet his hair.

“I said someone, I didn’t say me,” Kurt quipped back, and Blaine laughed loudly, shaking the water from his eyes, and god, he was really gorgeous, wasn’t he?

They switched places again – and really, this was why Kurt never got the appeal of joint showers. So much switching back and forth and taking twice as long to get clean. He supposed if he had a very naked Blaine to shower with, though, once in a while might be worth the effort. 

He handed off the shampoo to Blaine as he rinsed off, watching as he raised his arms to work the shampoo through his hair with both hands. Yeah, Kurt could probably get used to showering with Blaine, if just for the view. They switched once more, Kurt leaning his back up against the cool tile while Blaine washed the shampoo out and grabbed the conditioner from the built-in shelf. His cock was still hard as ever, curving backwards towards his toned stomach, and Kurt could feel his own dick wanting so badly to do the same, even though he was positive there was no way he could come again.

“It’s not nice to stare,” Blaine teased before ducking back under the water to wash the conditioner out of his hair, but from his tone, Kurt didn’t think he really minded all that much.

“ _I’m sick_ ,” he mimicked back to Blaine before continuing. “I was just thinking I’d feel really bad if I sent you all the way home on the L like that.” 

Blaine turned the temperature down on the water some more before heading to the back of the shower where Kurt was still pressed up against the wall. “You sure you’re okay to stay in here a little longer?”

“Yeah,” Kurt answered, pretending in his head that his raspy voice was _sexy_ and not revolting. Blaine didn’t waste any time in kissing him, more insistently than before (probably realizing quicker was better in this case), their wet lips sliding easily against each other. Kurt anchored himself on the arm that didn’t contain the hand wrapped around Blaine’s dick, and he nosed at Blaine’s chin a little, moving his head out of the way. “I want to see,” he whispered, and Blaine buried his head into the crook of Kurt’s neck, and groaned. 

When Kurt was feeling steady enough, he snaked his hand around to Blaine’s ass, flattening his palm against the cheek and Blaine moaned again at the contact. Kurt tugged him closer until Blaine’s fist bumped his hip, hard enough to probably hurt the way Blaine’s hand was moving over his dick even more furiously than before. Blaine’s lips were against Kurt’s neck, placing messy, open mouthed kisses wherever he could, and Kurt ducked his head to catch Blaine’s lips with his own. He felt Blaine’s breaths quicken against his mouth, and Blaine’s hips snapping in time with the movements of his fist, and Blaine’s lips started hitting random body parts in attempts to kiss Kurt (his cheek, his jaw, his neck). 

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine breathed against his skin, his back arching and pushing his ass harder against Kurt’s hand. “ _Kurt, please._ ”

Kurt whispered, “Shh,” against Blaine’s forehead, his arm reaching further around Blaine’s back so he could trail a finger down the crack of Blaine’s ass, the water on their skin letting it glide easily, but still not enough. It was all Blaine needed to push him over the edge, though, muttering a constant stream of nonsense as he came all over Kurt’s stomach, the shower wall – Kurt could make out his own name, and _oh god_ , and _thank you_.

Blaine’s breathing steadied, and he placed a soft kiss to Kurt’s cheek as he pushed off the wall away from him. Kurt’s legs wobbled a bit without the support of someone to lean against, but Blaine caught him, leading him slowly over to the now-cool shower spray to wash off again. 

Once newly cleaned, Kurt grabbed them towels from the adjacent linen closet to dry off with as Blaine turned off the water. He headed out to his closet to find a new pair of pajamas, since he couldn’t in good conscience put the old ones back on, and toyed with the idea of asking Blaine to stay. He decided against it though, knowing he should probably get a good night’s sleep before returning to work, and called out to ask if Blaine wanted to borrow anything to head home in. 

“No, I’m fine,” Blaine replied, and Kurt pulled on a fresh tee shirt and underwear before deciding he should really lie down. “You okay?” Blaine asked as he pulled on his pants, looking mildly concerned.

“Yeah, I just needed a quick rest. That was a more active shower than I anticipated,” he said with a giggle, and god, he was smitten and delirious and it was _wonderful_. Blaine sat down on the edge of the bed next to him and Kurt reached up to run his fingers through Blaine’s hair for once. “It’s curly. I like it,” Kurt said softly before adding, “I like your normal look too, though.”

Blaine smiled at his words and said, “I think you really just like _me_.”

Kurt closed his eyes and clasped his hand in Blaine’s. “I just might.” 

 

Kurt woke up with a start when his alarm went off Thursday morning, trying to figure out if the previous day had just been an extremely trippy dream. When he sat up, he realized Blaine's socks were lying in the middle of his bedroom floor.

Apparently not.

What had he been _thinking_? What had _Blaine_ been thinking? 

He groaned loudly, no one around to hear him, and finally forced himself to get up and get ready for the day.

Brittany threw her arms around him at once when he walked through the double doors a few hours later. "Don't ever get sick _again_ ," she pleaded. "Santana and Sebastian argued the whole time, and I know Santana always says I'm biased, like, I'd be a terrible witness in anything involving her, but Sebastian was really, really awful."

Kurt patted at her back soothingly. Their fighting seemed to go in cycles, but it seemed as if at any given moment, two of the three of them were irrationally angry at each other, with the third party left to play mediator. 

He tried not to burst into tears at the amount of paperwork piled on his desk when he entered his office, telling himself it was nothing a bit of elbow grease couldn't power through. Blaine peeked his head in at some point, slipping through his door and shutting it behind him. "Hi," he said, his voice nervous and a little wavering. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Kurt answered, trying not to stare because Blaine had worn his glasses, making his eyes seem even larger than they usually did. "We - we should talk."

"Yeah," Blaine agreed, nodding vigorously, but making no movement to leave.

"Not _now_ ," Kurt intoned, returning his attention to the papers in his hand, and he could see Blaine nod again out of the corner of his eye. 

"Right, right. See you at the morning meeting," he added before leaving Kurt to his work. 

Kurt led the ten o'clock staff meeting, Santana and Sebastian still staring daggers at each other, and Kurt didn't have nearly enough energy to figure out what they were even fighting about. Rachel looked worse than he felt, and he noticed she wasn't quite meeting his eye. Hopefully her awkwardness would pass so he wouldn't have to talk to her as well. 

Once the meeting adjourned, Kurt held Quinn and Blaine back. "I'm going to need to stay late tonight and tomorrow. It would help if I had someone to assist me, so one of you stay tonight and one tomorrow. Work it out between yourselves as to who's giving up their Friday night." Kurt waved his hand wearily, the gesture not having nearly as much pizazz as usual, but getting the point across all the same. 

He worked straight through lunch in his office, Sugar sweet enough to bring him a sandwich, and at five-twenty, there was a knock on his door. Blaine. He figured Quinn would stay after; she would pull seniority so Blaine would have to stay Friday, but Blaine must have convinced her otherwise. The look on Blaine's face was just a touch terrified, and Kurt sighed heavily at the sight of him. 

"Is everyone gone yet?" Kurt asked, and Blaine shook his head.

"Sugar is finishing up something with the time sheets, and Brittany was on her way out, but I'm not sure if she actually left. I think Sebastian is around too."

"Alright, well, sit down and stop looking like I'm about to kick your dog." Blaine looked concerned momentarily, as if he hadn't realized how downtrodden he'd looked. "Listen, I'm not mad, okay? Just ... confused."

Blaine relaxed slightly at Kurt's words. "I'm sorry."

Kurt wondered what exactly he was apologizing for (because there were so, so many options), but instead of asking, simply said, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Blaine looked as if he still didn't quite believe him, but dropped the subject, helping Kurt carry their work to the conference room and getting to it. Sugar was the last to leave and she checked on them on her way out, putting in a dinner order for them before heading out the door, and finally, they were alone.

"Did you want to wait until the food arrives to talk?" Blaine asked, glancing up from the packet of papers in his hand to meet Kurt's eye for the first time that night.

"Can we wait until she gets out of the building at least?" Kurt sat his own packet of case documents on the table, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

"Are you sure you should be working late?" Blaine asked, his voice laced with concern. "You don't look very good."

Of course Kurt didn't look very good. He'd been staring at paperwork so long his eyes were swimming. He needed a nap and a proper meal and to not be worried about whatever he and Blaine were doing. "I'll be fine," he snapped, and Blaine didn't look like he believed a word Kurt said.

Blaine didn't pester him again until their order from Mario’s, the Italian place down the block, arrived. He went down to pick up their food and Kurt tried to clear off enough of the conference table for them to eat. "Okay, Kurt you're driving me crazy here."

"Just - what are we even thinking? I mean, my judgment was completely gone yesterday because I was sick and sort of out of it, but what - why?" Kurt hated that he was still so unwell, thinking so unclearly he couldn't even articulate how he felt. He was making no sense and he knew it.

Blaine's eyes grew wide and he stuttered for a moment. "I - I mean - I'm sorry if anything yesterday made you uncomfortable, I guess it got a little carried away, and I swear that wasn't my intent when I asked if I could come over. It's just you called me out on what happened on Sunday, and I have a tendency to overcompensate, and you were just so _miserable_ -" 

"Blaine, it's fine," Kurt finally said, cutting him off. "I just meant I might be even more confused than when I was when I asked about this weekend. I don't know what we're doing, basically. I'm your _boss_ , Blaine."

"I know," Blaine whispered, and Kurt looked over at him. He was suddenly finding his spaghetti very interesting, twirling random strands around his fork, but never raising it to his mouth. "Sometimes I wish you weren't."

Kurt's heart dropped a little in his chest. "Not that I don't love working here," Blaine quickly blurted out. "This is the best job I've ever had, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize that."

"Blaine, I want you to know, no matter what happens or happened, I would never -"

"I know you wouldn't," Blaine said firmly. "I trust you."

"That's a lot of trust for someone you've only known a few months." Blaine shrugged his shoulders, returning his attention back to his dinner, this time managing to eat a few bites.

"Where do we go from here?" Kurt finally asked, giving up on his lasagna even though half of it was left. 

"I like you. You like me too, unless your medicine from yesterday made you out of it enough to lie." 

Blaine reached for Kurt's hand across the wide conference table, and Kurt let him grip it, even though he had the urge to pull it away. "No, that was validly obtained information." 

They locked eyes for a short moment, Blaine's warm and inviting, and Kurt could easily give up work for the rest of the night to gaze into them. Finally, Blaine squeezed Kurt's hand gently before pulling his away to continue eating. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Kurt. I don't have some crazy hidden agenda to sleep with my boss and get in his head, I just _really like you._ "

"I like you too," Kurt said, "but I'm looking for something more than just sex. If you're not, that's fine, but I just wanted to be upfront." He hadn't been in a relationship in a while, since before the firm started, and Blaine's actions the day before made him forget how much he missed it. Someone to laugh with and cry with, someone to pick him up when he was down and lift him higher even when he wasn’t, someone for whom he could do the same. An equal. A partner. He’d been too career-oriented to date much over the past few years, and it was time to change that.

“I think you’re missing the point of what I said. I like _you_ , not just the limited sexual encounters we’ve had.” Blaine was smirking, and Kurt attempted to roll his eyes and not grin, but his mouth betrayed him, a small smile playing on his lips. He hated feeling his cheeks heat up, how even at _thirty_ he blushed just as much as he had in high school. “You should ask me out to dinner,” Blaine added, breaking Kurt’s internal dialogue.

“ _I_ should ask _you_ out to dinner?” Kurt repeated, turning back towards Blaine and resting his chin on his hand. 

“Sure,” Blaine replied, nodding vigorously and reaching for another garlic roll from the paper bag in between them. “I’ve heard some feedback that maybe I’m a little too aggressive, so the ball’s in your court, buddy.”

Cheeky bastard. “Stupid sports metaphors,” Kurt murmured under his breath. “I do appreciate yesterday, by the way,” he added. He twirled the straw wrapper from his iced tea in his fingers. “I … I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”

“I gathered that,” Blaine mused, cleaning up his empty food containers and placing them in the bags they came in. “So, there. I’ll refrain from using another sports metaphor, but no pressure. I know you have a ton to get caught up on and you’re still kind of sick. Take your time, I’ll be waiting.”

As Blaine gathered the trash to take down to the downstairs dumpster and not stink up the office, Kurt was still just as confused as to who Blaine actually was, but somehow it didn’t matter.

 

When Kurt arrived at the office Saturday afternoon, he found Santana already there, catching up on a bit of her own work. “Hummel, you don’t look half dead today! Congrats!” she deadpanned, but she was _almost_ smiling. 

“And you’re not biting my head off in Sebastian’s absence,” he quipped back, standing in her office doorway momentarily to chat. “What was all that about anyway?”

Santana shrugged, smiling smugly. “He made some offhanded tacky comment and I decided to push his buttons a little. That’s all you need to know.”

“So, the usual?” Kurt asked, smiling brightly at her, and she broke into laughter at that. “God, I can’t believe you two have gone eight years without killing each other. I swore after first year one of you wouldn’t graduate. And now here we are.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you and Sebastian go into practice alone together, even if I hadn’t been out of work. You’d just argue and fuck the whole time and get nothing done. So, now he argues with me, and then …” Santana trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows and Kurt’s jaw dropped to the floor. “What? You think I don’t know what happens on your little jet-setting rendezvous after you get a little liquor in you? Why do you think I keep insisting you two go?”

“Either way, it needs to stop,” Kurt snarled at her. “It was a horrible lapse in judgment, and I don’t want it happening again.”

“Fair enough,” she replied, sitting back in her desk chair and twirling her pencil between her fingers. “But speaking of horrible lapses in judgment … have you seen the way Blaine looks at you sometimes? I think he’s got some sickeningly adorable crush on you.”

Kurt’s throat went dry. Had Blaine’s attraction really been that obvious? Had Kurt really been that oblivious to it aside from the past few days? “Ooh, it looks like you haven’t. Very interesting. You should do something about that, Hummel. He’s compact and supple and have you _seen_ his ass?”

Kurt rolled his eyes and turned on his heel before his cheeks flushed. “Some of us like to keep our love lives out of the office, Lopez!”

“I’d totes have your back!” she called as he walked briskly down the hall to his office. 

Around seven, Kurt’s stomach began grumbling. Santana had left a few hours earlier, without a single mention more of Blaine, and Kurt figured he was almost caught up enough to leave for the night. He was contemplating running by the market for something for dinner – he’d had enough takeout for the week – when his phone buzzed with a text from Blaine.

_are you at work on this fine Saturday evening? :)_

Kurt shook his head ruefully before tossing his reading glasses on the desk and picking up his phone. _I am. Was just about to get out of here._

A reply came almost instantly. _Good. It’s getting too late to be at work. :)_ followed by _I’m at Piece with Sugar and Rachel. Rachel’s trying to get Sugar to duet with her, but I think she’s going to be sorely disappointed when she hears Sugar actually sing._

Kurt laughed at the thought of Sugar’s excitement. Sugar loved to sing – but in no way was she actually good at it. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to figure out if he should invite Blaine over. _I’m about to stop by Dominick’s and pick up some food to make for dinner_ , he typed quickly before changing his mind. _Are you hungry? You could join me if you don’t want to be stuck between two bickering women._

Kurt set the phone on his desk, trying not to watch for a response, turning his computer off and straightening the stacks of papers in front of him instead. Thankfully, his phone buzzed a few moments later. _That sounds … perfect. I’d love to. Meet you in an hour?_

He was out the door before he could even type a response.


	3. Chapter 3

Dinner with Blaine had gone lovely. Kurt had settled on simple: steaks and sweet potatoes and roasted asparagus with a spinach salad and good red wine. Their conversation flowed easily, and neither one of them mentioned work even once; Blaine had even proved handy in the kitchen while they prepared the food. Good conversation really was just like foreplay for Kurt, and between that and the bottle of wine they’d polished off between them, Kurt wanted to drag Blaine to the bedroom the instant dinner was done.

At least, he wanted to until Blaine mentioned his brother was getting into O’Hare at five am, and he should probably head home to get some rest. “I should have mentioned it before,” he said after Kurt carried their dishes to the sink. He sounded sincere, and when Kurt turned away from the sink, Blaine was next to him, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s shoulders and pulling him in for a long, lingering kiss that only left Kurt wanting more. “He’s only here for forty-eight hours before he heads on to New York, and we haven’t always had the best relationship. I’m so sorry,” Blaine said, the words ghosting over Kurt’s lips before he pulled Blaine in for one more kiss.

Blaine had promised a rain check for a longer date later, and if there had been a teeny tiny niggling at the back of his head about the excuse, all worries were cleared when Blaine asked if he could have a little bit of extra time on Monday for lunch and brought Cooper back to the office to meet everyone afterwards. Cooper was jovial, if a little self absorbed, and Kurt told Blaine to take the rest of the afternoon off to spend with him. The trial date for the Schuester case had finally been set, and even though it was almost two months out, there was lots of work still to be done – still, nothing they couldn’t deal with without Blaine.

Kurt was trying to limit staying after hours in the next few weeks, because he knew the closer they got to the trial date, the later they’d all be working. On Thursday Kurt, Blaine, and Quinn had all been out of the office talking to witnesses, however, and figured they should stay a bit so they wouldn’t be swamped next week (and Kurt and Quinn wouldn’t give up another Friday). They split a veggie pizza at six and Kurt hoped they’d be out of there by eight.

Quinn was picking the red peppers off a slice of pizza her face brightened as if something had occurred to her. “Hey,” she said, turning to face Kurt. “In August, it’ll be the firm’s fourth anniversary.”

“Huh. I guess it will be,” Kurt said before taking a sip of his iced tea. “Did Santana ever give you the whole spiel about how we got started here?” he asked Blaine, who shook his head. “It was a little over a year after we graduated. Sebastian, Santana and I all stayed in touch even though we ended up at different firms. None of us were really happy, though, but we all just figured it was a rite of passage, paying our dues or whatever. That summer, I was on a leave of absence because my dad had died, and I was back in Lima dealing with all that.” Kurt paused to take another bite of his pizza slice when he realized it might have been the first time he’d told this story without fighting back tears. Strange. 

“Santana had just quit because she got into a fight with one of the partners at her firm – you could only take pro bono cases if you’d billed enough hours with other cases, and there was this case that really hit close to home with her and they wouldn’t let her take it. So she told them off and walked out and never looked back. Sebastian’s dad was annoyed with him that he hadn’t been made partner at his firm yet – after a _year_ , mind you, and we were all sort of in this place where we knew we weren’t happy where we were and I had a little bit of money left from my dad’s life insurance and selling his business, and Sebastian had backing from his dad, and Santana had surprisingly saved like, half of her first year’s salary, so we just decided to go for it.”

Quinn laughed, taking a sip of her Diet Coke before butting in. “The first year was _rough_. I was hired first, and half the time I was answering phones, and we were working out of this tiny office on the very fringes of downtown.”

“We all pretty much hated each other since we were on top of each other all the time, but then we hired Tina and Artie and Brittany and then Sugar, all before the year was out, and after the first of the year we were somehow actually billing enough hours to cover all our own bills and payroll and we moved here, what, two years ago?” Kurt glanced over at Blaine, who was smiling at their memories. 

“That’s all pretty amazing when you think about it,” Blaine pointed out, and Kurt couldn’t hold back his grin. He had so much pride for what they’d accomplished over the past few years, all the lives they’d helped. The fact that they’d proved successful was just icing on the cake.

They finished up dinner and got back to work, because Kurt really hoped they’d get out of there by eight. He wanted nothing more than to sink into his bathtub, maybe with a book or maybe with just his iPod, and relax. Quinn must have felt the same way, because when Kurt looked over at her around seven-thirty, her eyes were beginning to droop. “Sorry,” she apologized quickly when she noticed Kurt had caught her. “I got horrible sleep last night.”

Kurt told her to go home and rest, that he and Blaine could wrap it up from there, and it occurred to him it was the first time since their date on Saturday that he’d been alone with Blaine. 

Suddenly, a bath didn’t seem so appealing.

Kurt could see the glass exit doors through the conference room window, Quinn closing them in her wake and waiting for the elevator. “Alone at last,” Blaine said cheerfully, returning his eyes to his legal pad where he’d been making notes from earlier in the day. Blaine had asked Kurt once if the firm had ever considered going digital, keeping notes on tablets and e-readers and computers instead, and Kurt had pointed out how he liked having hard copies of things to fall back on. He’d noticed the tiniest of smirks at the mention of how he liked things hard on Blaine’s face, small enough Blaine probably thought Kurt hadn’t even seen, but he had, and even though it would have been weeks before either of them would act on anything, the moment suddenly came rushing back to Kurt instantly – because he liked all kinds of things hard, indeed.

“Yeah,” Kurt breathed out, trying to concentrate on the article before him once more, ignoring memories of stupid innuendo. He realized after reading the same paragraph three times, he might be done too. He took his glasses off, where they’d sunk down past the bridge of his nose, inching towards the tip, and folded them neatly in his hand. He watched Blaine momentarily, not full on staring, just tilting his head in his direction, watching out of the corner of his eye. Blaine’s glasses had slipped down his nose too as he wrote, and the cardigan he’d chosen for the day was pushed up to his elbows. It was early June, so the weather was disgustingly hot outside, but Sugar kept the office freezing to compensate. Kurt’s eyes trailed along the lines of Blaine’s exposed forearms, the slight ridges his veins and muscles made. Kurt saw Blaine set his pencil down on his pad of paper and he looked up from Blaine’s arms to his face to see Blaine staring back at him.

“Sorry, I …” Kurt started, but his mouth went dry. He was sitting at the head of the conference table, Blaine at his left, and he realized he’d shifted closer in his seat to Blaine’s side of the table.

“Got distracted?” Blaine offered, but he wasn’t witty and cheerful like before, his tone just a touch darker, and he inched his chair closer to Kurt’s.

“Something like that,” Kurt answered, his chair scraping across the hardwood floor beneath them as he attempted to get closer to Blaine, the loud sound echoing through the room. He stopped moving his chair to laugh, his hand flying up to cover his mouth, because he was really being _quite ridiculous_. He’d been alone with Blaine for only a few minutes, and this is what had happened?

Blaine’s eyelashes fluttered as he chuckled with Kurt. “I guess we do have some unfinished business to take care of from Saturday night,” he said once they’d stopped. 

“I –“ Kurt started, trying to articulate that he hadn’t planned being alone with Blaine like this, but the way Blaine was looking at him, who cared? “We should – I think we should leave too,” Kurt said, standing up quickly.

“Why should we have to leave?” Blaine said, getting up too. He pulled Kurt against him, backing up until he was almost flush against the wall. “I don’t think I can wait that long, please.”

Neither could Kurt when Blaine was almost begging for Kurt’s touch. He surged his body into Blaine’s, and Blaine let out a gasp when his back hit the wall with a solid _thwack_. Kurt almost gasped with him, the adrenaline rush of going from zero to sixty hitting him hard, and he hadn’t even _kissed_ Blaine yet. He quickly remedied that, fusing their lips together. Blaine tangled his hand in Kurt’s rumpled cotton shirt, pulling him closer still, opening his legs slightly for Kurt to slot his between them. 

Blaine was half hard against his thigh, which spurred Kurt on even more, pulling Blaine’s navy cardigan off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Underneath was a short sleeved shirt and suspenders, plus Blaine’s signature bow tie, of course, but the suspenders were something that never failed to turn Kurt on. He hadn’t worn them either time they’d been together, but they were a regular office staple, and they drove Kurt crazy. “I love it when you wear these,” he whispered against Blaine’s ear, running a hand in between the suspenders and Blaine’s shirt. He pulled one side taut, hearing Blaine’s breath hitch where his mouth was fixated against Kurt’s neck, and _oh_ , Blaine must like wearing them too. A fingertip caught on Blaine’s nipple as Kurt smoothed his hands down his torso, and Blaine bucked up further against Kurt’s thigh. Kurt pushed back against him, bending his knee slightly upwards to give him the right pressure, and Blaine buried his head into Kurt’s shoulder, whining out his name.

Kurt wasn’t sure if it was because they were still in the office, or because it was the first time he’d been fully cognizant for their activities, or because Blaine was second guessing his every move since their multiple talks, but this time it was Blaine yielding to every one of Kurt’s touches, following his lead, which Kurt was perfectly fine with. He wanted to make Blaine feel just as good as Blaine had made him (not that he hadn’t already, but now he was back to full health at least).

Kurt’s lips had made their way back to Blaine’s and he pulled back slightly to speak. “Tell me what you want, Blaine,” Kurt said softly, Blaine’s lips involuntarily following Kurt’s, seeking contact once more. “Anything. Tell me.”

Blaine’s eyes were wide and his hair was a little mussed from where Kurt had attempted to curl his fingers in it. He was silent, unsure if he should actually share, Kurt supposed, and he was about to prompt him again when Blaine whispered barely loud enough for Kurt to hear him, “Fuck me. Here. On the conference table.” His eyes drifted down between them, almost as if he was glancing at Kurt’s cock hungrily even though they were still fully clothed.

Kurt’s own eyes widened, and he threw his head back and groaned at the thought. Blaine’s hands flew to Kurt’s back, holding him in position so he could run his tongue down the expanse of Kurt’s his neck. “Please,” he whispered, just above Kurt’s Adam’s apple. 

“Oh, _fuck_ , you’re serious,” Kurt moaned softly as Blaine continued to kiss down the stretch of skin before him, nosing Kurt’s shirt open where it was unbuttoned. It was perfectly feasible – Kurt kept lube and condoms in his office on the rare occasion he was going out straight from work on a Friday night, and the even rarer occasion he would get laid. “I – yeah. _Yes_.” He straightened up, kissing Blaine once, firmly. “Clean up our paperwork. I’ll be right back.”

Kurt ran from the conference room, locking the front doors and heading to his office. He unlocked the filing cabinet where he kept his personal files and there, in the back, was exactly what he needed. 

Blaine had moved their piles of paperwork to the smaller table in the back and Kurt shut the blinds and locked the conference room door, just in case Santana or Sebastian came back for something (sure, they would hear, but they wouldn’t _see_ ). Blaine was leaning against the edge of the table, and he made motions to move when Kurt walked away from the locked door, but Kurt clucked his tongue. “Stay right where you are,” Kurt said, smirking. He walked over and nudged Blaine’s hips until he was actually sitting on the edge of the table, then murmured, “Perfect,” before loosening Blaine’s tie. He wasn’t sure if he meant the way Blaine was sitting, or the man himself. 

Kurt’s mouth followed in the wake of his fingers as he undid Blaine’s tie and the buttons on his shirt, placing slow, wet kisses down Blaine’s skin, making Blaine writhe and squirm beneath him. He stopped to slide the suspenders over Blaine’s shoulders once his shirt was fully unbuttoned, letting them fall around his waist before allowing Blaine shrug off his shirt. Blaine yanked at Kurt’s tie, pulling him close enough to undo it as Kurt’s eyes slammed shut with pleasure, Blaine muttering, “You too,” before loosening Kurt’s tie and slipping it over his head. “You liked that, didn’t you?” Blaine asked, Kurt feeling the smile on Blaine’s lips against his skin.

“Maybe,” Kurt breathed out, trying to ignore how the pressure had felt against his throat, because there were more urgent matters at hand. “It was nice and all, but more importantly, you should be naked _right now_.”

Blaine laughed against his shoulder, placing one last kiss against his skin before backing Kurt up and sliding off the table and unbuttoning his pants. Kurt did the same for his own trousers, letting them pool around his ankles before stepping out of them and shoving them to the side. He watched as Blaine’s pants fell, resting his hands at Blaine’s trim waist before he removed his underwear. “Let me,” he whispered, stretching the waistband and pulling them down Blaine’s thighs, wrapping a hand around his hardened cock and breathing in the scent of Blaine where it was the strongest. Blaine let out a stuttering breath when Kurt sucked the tip of Blaine’s cock into his mouth, and then another when he flattened his tongue for more. Kurt might have gotten a little carried away, because it wasn’t long before Blaine was pulling at Kurt’s hair and whimpering, “Oh my god, Kurt, you have to stop that.” 

“ _So_ sorry,” Kurt scolded, pinching Blaine’s thigh as he stood and pulled off his own boxer briefs. Blaine yelped at the sting, but Kurt distracted him by kissing him firmly and whispering, “Turn around.”

He skimmed his palms over Blaine’s ass, squeezing slightly and trying not to groan. Kurt leaned over Blaine’s shoulder to whisper in his ear, his cock brushing over the crack of Blaine’s ass, and he _did_ groan at that. “Lean over the table,” Kurt whispered when he’d regained his voice. 

Blaine obeyed, resting on his elbows, ass sticking up slightly in the air, and god, was it a sight. “So fucking gorgeous,” Kurt murmured before reaching for the small bottle of lube he’d pulled from his file cabinet. 

When they weren’t both so impatient, Kurt would have to take time to adore and worship what was in front of him, but he had wanted this for _months_ \- he needed to be inside Blaine as soon as possible. Every noise Blaine made reverberated off the hard wood of the table he was pressed against, echoing in the room surrounding them – each moan or cry of pleasure when Kurt added another finger or changed the angle of them, Blaine finally begging him to get on with things, pleading, “Please, Kurt, _please_.”

Kurt quickly removed his fingers, Blaine gasping at the emptiness and Kurt gasping at the sight before him. He groped around on the table searching for the condom, unable to take his eyes off of Blaine clenching around _nothing_ , finally finding it and rolling it down his length before grabbing the lube again. 

He slid into Blaine in one fluid motion, not stopping until he bottomed out, gripping Blaine’s hips as he gasped beneath him. He remained motionless, his balls pressed tight against Blaine and his cock engulfed in the tight heat of him. Kurt could hear Blaine swearing under his breath, just a constant muttering of _fuckfuckfuckfuck_ , his words getting slightly louder when Kurt started to grind against him, his hips moving in slow circles against Blaine’s ass, and finally, he bit out, “Harder, c’mon,” as he tried to push himself backwards off the table and further back onto Kurt’s cock. 

“Bossy,” Kurt mused, but he just gripped Blaine’s hips tighter, pulling out slowly before slamming back into him, Blaine hissing his swear words even louder in response. He smirked at Blaine’s babbles, his fingers pressing into Blaine’s soft skin even harder, dragging Blaine’s body against his on his upward thrusts. Blaine eventually started to lose steam, his words becoming grunts and sighs and moans. Once Kurt settled into a rhythm, Blaine stammered, “I need to – oh my _god_ , Kurt, you’re so _fucking amazing_ –” and he pushed back far enough from the table to wrap his hand around his dick.

Kurt slowed, just slightly, so he wouldn’t knock Blaine off kilter, because god, he was close, the familiar tightening of his stomach and the pressure building beneath. “Come on, Blaine,” Kurt encouraged as he pounded his cock into Blaine once more.

“Tell me – more,” Blaine breathed out, hips working overtime forward through his fist and backwards onto Kurt’s cock. “So – _fucking_ – good.”

“You look so perfect like this,” Kurt murmured, his voice surprisingly calm and soothing for someone whose orgasm was so imminent. “So flawless stretched out on the table underneath me, taking … taking whatever I give you.” He paused to catch his breath, stuttering when he continued. “We have to meet … _clients_ in here tomorrow … god, Blaine … and all I’m going to be able to think about is your impeccable … impeccable _ass_ , and how tight you are around me, and come on and come for me, because I am _so, so close_ –“ 

Thankfully, that’s all it took, Blaine clenching around Kurt’s cock tight as he came, whispering Kurt’s name, broken and thankful, and Kurt couldn’t hold out anymore. His orgasm hit just as Blaine was coming down, his body limp beneath him on the table, and Kurt let out a wrecked sob as he gripped Blaine’s hips tight once more to hold him in place. He half worried about the fact that he’d probably bruised Blaine’s skin from gripping so tightly, but Blaine was sated and happy under him, so he figured he couldn’t care too much. Kurt collapsed for a moment on top of Blaine, still buried deep within him, his front pressed against Blaine's back, just long enough to catch his breath before pulling out slowly and removing the condom.

Blaine’s underwear was still hanging around his ankles, and Kurt grabbed his own, pulling them on before sinking down on the floor behind the table, back against the wall for support. Blaine smiled and sat down next to him, murmuring, “That was amazing. _You’re_ amazing,” and capturing his lips in a soft, slow kiss.

Blaine dropped his head to Kurt’s shoulder, both of them still coming down from their highs and catching their breath, and Kurt leaned his head against the wall behind them, shutting his eyes. When he opened them, he glanced over to the door, thankful that no one had decided to come back for anything they’d forgotten, and he noticed something over the door he never had before – something black and shiny and small. 

It finally hit him – Santana had talked about installing cameras in the public areas, just for their own safety, in case something was to go horribly wrong. It surely couldn’t be _on_ – perhaps Santana had put them in, but hadn’t activated them yet, since she hadn’t informed Kurt at least. He blinked and shrugged, figuring they were definitely not working presently. He’d worry about it the following day and he wouldn’t allow himself to ruin his bliss by panicking. 

“We should clean up in here before we go,” Kurt murmured into Blaine’s hair, and he jolted slightly, as if he’d fallen asleep. Sure enough, when Blaine picked up his head to look at Kurt, his eyes were half lidded, but he was still grinning. Kurt nosed against Blaine’s cheek to reach his lips and trade lazy kisses with him. “You should still come over,” Kurt offered. “It’s awfully late for you to be taking the L back home.”

Blaine’s expression told him he knew the train had no factor in Kurt’s asking, but he didn’t say anything acknowledging it. “I think that sounds like an excellent plan.”

 

To Kurt’s delight, Blaine ended up staying the whole night. He had forgotten how much he’d enjoyed just _sleeping_ with someone. Waking up in the middle of the night to Blaine’s legs draped over his, Blaine’s hand resting at his waist tangled in his undershirt, feeling Blaine’s breath against his back. Blaine was a cuddler, and Kurt wasn’t one inherently (especially when he wasn’t sick), but it was comforting. He woke up forty minutes before his alarm, because Blaine was already up placing languid kisses down his spine under his undershirt, and Kurt could certainly get used to waking up to that.

“Sorry, I guess I’m used to getting up earlier than you,” Blaine said softly when Kurt finally stirred. 

“Mmm,” he hummed, rolling over to face Blaine, his eyes still wanting to slip shut. “I don’t mind waking up early when it’s to that.”

Kurt slid his eyes closed for just a moment, and he could hear Blaine laugh. “You’re kind of adorable when you first wake up,” he teased, ducking his head back under Kurt’s shirt to lavish the same attention on his front.

“Shh, don’t tell anyone,” Kurt murmured, finding the strength to pull off his undershirt to make things easier on Blaine. “I have a bitchy reputation to uphold.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Blaine said, his fingers sliding under Kurt’s briefs, and he could _so_ get used to waking up like this.

They were in the shower together before Kurt’s actual alarm went off, and they had time to comb Kurt’s closet for something Blaine could wear. Luckily, Blaine wasn’t sitting in on any client meetings, and Fridays were more casual than the rest of the work week. Kurt found him a pair of jeans, which Blaine rolled at the ankle, a basic white shirt, and a distressed pinstripe blazer Kurt hadn’t worn in over a year. 

“Keep it,” Kurt told him, brushing off the shoulders. “It looks better on you than it does me.” He could see the slightest twinge of pink in Blaine’s cheeks at the comment, and simply grinned at him, pulling out a plain black bow tie to complete the look.

The pair walked to Intelligentsia together for pastries and coffee, Blaine leaving a few minutes ahead of Kurt. Kurt sat and sipped his coffee, reading his copy of the Tribune on his tablet, and after ten minutes, he figured he’d given Blaine enough of a buffer. 

He found Blaine hunched over the reception desk talking to Brittany when he arrived. “Kurt!” Brittany said cheerfully. “I was just telling Blaine you had the exact same blazer!”

He swallowed his sip of coffee quickly as Blaine turned to face him, leaning his elbows on the desk. “And I told her you must have very good taste!” he said with a wink.

“I do have something similar. Nice eye, Brit,” he offered with a smile, making his way down the hall to his office. 

Santana called out to him as he passed. “Morning, boo!” He poked his head in her doorway. She sure was chipper.

“Morning. Sorry if I’m not as energetic as you. Some of us had to work late.” Kurt ignored the fact that most of what he’d been doing at the office last night wasn’t working.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Santana said with her patented eye roll. “I’ll be done with Fisher next week, and then I’ll be able to help you guys out more.”

Kurt offered her a grateful smile, and was about to turn and head to his own office when the thought occurred to him. “Oh, by the way, did we ever do anything with the cameras for the conference room?”

She looked puzzled for a moment. “Yeah, I had Lauren put those in a while ago. Did I forget to tell you? I know I told Smythe. It must have been when you were out sick.”

“Oh.” Kurt schooled his face to a neutral expression. He would not panic in front of Santana. _He would not panic._ “So, Lauren’s in charge of it all?”

Santana nodded, still looking at him oddly. “Yeah. You should have her show you how it works. She showed us. They cover reception and the conference room.” 

“Interesting. Good to know,” Kurt said, backing up out of the doorway. “I’ll go have Lauren do it now.”

He took a few deep breaths as he headed down the hall to the office Blaine, Lauren and Rachel shared. “Morning guys,” Kurt said, peeking his head in and hoping he didn’t seem too freaked out. “Lauren, can I see you in my office?”

Rachel offered him a smile, but Blaine looked concerned. He shook his head subtly at Blaine as Lauren got up out of her seat. “Sure thing, Boss.”

Kurt waited until Lauren shut the door, dropping his messenger bag and sitting down behind his desk. She sat in the plush chair in front of his desk, tilting her head slightly and waiting. “So, apparently while I was out sick, you set up some security cameras? Can you … explain to me how those work?” Kurt was impressed with how calm and steady his voice was – his heart was about to beat out of his chest.

Lauren squinted at him from behind her glasses before explaining. "Of course. The actual camera system can only hold twelve hours of video and then it erases itself.” Kurt sighed slightly – he and Blaine had left the office just over thirteen hours ago. She frowned slightly before continuing. “At noon and midnight though, the camera system backs up to a server, so we can keep things … well, forever, I guess, the server can hold years of footage. The files aren’t very big.”

That was a worry item.

Kurt took a deep breath, closing his eyes tightly for a moment before asking the dreaded question. “So, theoretically, you could put a backup on a flash drive, yes?” Lauren nodded, still giving him a look like she knew something fishy was going on. “Okay. I need you to put the last backup, the one from midnight, on a flash drive for me, and then make sure it gets deleted from the server. Can I trust you to do that for me?” he asked with as much sternness as he could muster.

Lauren eyed him closely, before speaking very slowly and purposefully. “Sure thing. Anything in particular I need to know about what happened yesterday afternoon and-or night that’s so important to you?”

Kurt swallowed thickly. “Just … something I would prefer not to get into the wrong hands. Alright?”

“Okay,” she replied, still eyeing him curiously but, nodding her head. “I’ll have it for you after lunch. Is that it?”

Kurt nodded back and waved his hands to shoo her from the office. He had a ten o’clock client meeting and a noon lunch scheduled, and he didn’t have time to freak out about everything now.

A few minutes later, Blaine slipped through his office door. “Everything alright?” he asked, looking a touch perturbed. 

“You said you trust me, right?” Kurt said quietly and waited for Blaine to answer yes. “I’ll explain everything once it’s fixed, but the Schuesters will be here in thirty minutes and I need to focus. Everything will be okay, alright? Promise,” he said, locking eyes with Blaine, and Blaine looked confused and a little scared, but he nodded his head in agreement anyway.

Kurt was grateful for a busy day – it kept his mind off of what Lauren was doing for him and what would happen if everything blew up in their faces. He’d just re-entered his office from his lunch meeting, slumping into his desk chair, when Lauren knocked on the door.

“Here you go,” she said, tossing him the small plastic stick containing the backup. “I should tell you, I had to watch it as it backed up, and you guys were super hot. You should know there’s audio on there too, but I didn’t listen.”

Thank god for small favors. “I’m going to forget you said that you watched this,” Kurt said, still trying to be authoritative even though he knew his cheeks were flaming. “This is the only copy that exists, yes?”

“Yeah, I permanently deleted the file from the server. Your secret is safe for me. Though, if you were so inclined to throw a little _incentive_ my way, it would be appreciated. I’m working the Miller case with Sebastian and I’d _hate_ to let something slip.” She was smirking at him. Smirking. 

“Are you _blackmailing me_?” Kurt asked, outraged. “I should fire you on the spot.”

“I think you misunderstood, Boss.” She widened her eyes, and Kurt didn’t buy her innocent act for a minute, or that her ‘boss’ business was anything but condescending. “I just _do_ like to gossip, and I’m going to have to try extra hard to not mention anything …”

Kurt blinked at her. She couldn’t be serious. “Alright, you all were supposed to get raises in August when you’ve been here six months. I’ll make sure it goes through next payroll even though it’s only been four. Deal?”

“That is very much appreciated, Boss,” she said, smiling widely at him. She looked as if she was going to say something else, but a knock at the door interrupted her. Blaine opened the door, glancing in.

“Oh, sorry Lauren, I’ll come back,” Blaine started, but she was already making her way for the door. 

“No worries, my man, we’re done here,” Lauren said, walking past him. “Also, I have always been an ass woman, and I’ve got to say, congrats on your genes, Anderson.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up, which she just laughed at and shut the door behind her as she exited. “What was that about?” Blaine asked, looking almost afraid to learn the answer.

“Security cameras were installed in the conference room and reception area a few weeks ago,” Kurt said, and Blaine sat down, the color draining from his face. “Don’t worry, the only copy is right here. She deleted it from the server.”

Blaine’s eyes shot to Kurt’s hand holding the flash drive. “Are you sure?”

“I mean, I didn’t check personally, but yeah. I trust Lauren to have done what she said.” He'd known about it all for a few hours, and now he felt better since Lauren had brought him the recording, but Blaine had just learned of everything this instant and Kurt knew it had to be a shock. 

Blaine stayed silent for a few minutes, finally asking, “Can I get a copy of that?”

Kurt’s eyebrows shot up. Was Blaine trying to blackmail him now too? Could he trust no one in his whole damn office?

Blaine must have realized how his words sounded, because he quickly backtracked. “I mean – not for anything important, just – ah – _personal use_.”

Kurt flushed again, the thought of Blaine watching the recording of them having sex and jerking off pulling something tight within him. “Yeah, of course,” Kurt said, offering him a small smile. “What are you doing tonight? I don’t have any plans, so if you _wanted_ to come over and check things out together …”

Blaine’s face lit up. “I’d like that. I'd like that very much." Kurt's smile turned into a full on grin. For everything that could have gone wrong, he felt extremely lucky.

 

The next month flew by, Kurt spending more time with Blaine than he would have admitted to everyone, even if people had known they were dating. He went home to Lima one of the last weekends in June, and it almost scared him how much he missed Blaine. It had been a long time since he'd fallen for someone so hard, so fast, and the thought sometimes terrified him. 

July 4th was on a Thursday, and he, Santana, and Sebastian decided to close down shop for a four day weekend, and Blaine didn't leave Kurt's apartment until Sunday night. They spent Thursday night watching fireworks from Kurt's terrace, his building perfectly positioned to see them in almost every direction. Friday and Saturday had been spent with Kurt showing Blaine some of his favorite Chicago attractions, being complete tourists even though places were packed due to the holiday weekend. They fell into bed each night dead on their feet, but somehow finding enough energy for a little more exploring – each other, this time. The following weekend, the whole firm spent their Saturday together at a Cubs game with a pack of suite tickets dropped off by a client, Finn driving out for the weekend to use one of the extra tickets. It occurred to Kurt that day, when he saw Blaine and Finn eating nachos and drinking beer at one of the suite's tables, Blaine winking at him when Finn wasn't looking - he couldn't remember the last time he'd been so happy. 

Kurt couldn’t remember another time in his life where he felt utterly satisfied in all areas of his life – personally, professionally, _sexually_ (and if he was being completely honest, Blaine far exceeded all expectations each time they were together). Kurt wasn’t one to fall fast and hard like this usually, and when he sat down to really think about it – well, it scared him, to say the least. He knew this was out of left field for him, and he knew he shouldn’t let his feelings run away with themselves.

Kurt also knew their honeymoon phase couldn’t last forever. He just hadn’t expected Sebastian to be the cause of its demise.

There were two weeks to go until jury selection for the Schuester trial began, and everyone in the office was working tirelessly in preparation. They’d all been working late, and Blaine and Kurt usually were leaving the office so behind schedule, they both went straight to Kurt’s. That Friday, Blaine snuck into Kurt’s office around noon with a mischievous look on his face.

“Everyone’s gone except Brittany,” Blaine explained with an eyebrow waggle. “They all decided to go out for lunch. I think we should stay in.”

That was how Kurt’s phone got switched to Do Not Disturb and Blaine ended up blowing him under the desk. Blaine had confided to Kurt how much he wanted to do this weeks ago, but after their security camera scare, they were a little gun shy about doing anything in the office. It seemed like the perfect scenario, until there was a knock on the door only a few minutes in. 

“Hey! You in there?” Sebastian. Of course. 

Kurt untangled his fingers from Blaine’s hair and Blaine’s mouth on Kurt’s cock slowed, but he didn’t remove it – and Kurt wasn’t complaining. “What?” Kurt barked at the door, hoping his tone would ensure that the visit was brief. 

“My my, we’re in a feisty mood today,” Sebastian drawled, coming in to sit across from Kurt’s desk, Blaine sucking lightly at the tip of Kurt’s cock all the while. He needed to get Sebastian out. Fast.

“Make it quick, Sebastian, I’m buried in work and would like to be able to eat lunch today.” Kurt scowled at him and at least his desk was in enough disarray for his statement to be believable. At Kurt’s comment, Blaine slipped his lips even further down Kurt’s length, and Kurt was pretty sure Blaine was enjoying this more than he was. 

“Fine, geeze, I always forget what you’re like right before a trial. I much prefer post-trial euphoric Kurt to your pre-trial insanity.” Kurt rolled his eyes before continuing to glare, and Sebastian barked out a laugh. “God, you are such a brat sometimes! I’ll make it quick. I just wanted to talk to you about Blaine.”

Blaine had taken Kurt’s cock in deeper just before the mention of his name, and at Sebastian’s statement, he let out a small cough which Kurt luckily caught in time to mask with his own. “Blaine? What about? He helped you on that Bethany stuff, right? And everything was fine?”

“Of course everything was fine,” Sebastian said, looking suspiciously at Kurt before dropping the act. “That kid’s a fucking genius, no wonder you’ve been hogging him all to yourself.” Kurt could feel Blaine smiling at Sebastian’s words, because Kurt had certainly been hogging him in more ways than one. “He’s been working here for months and it was the first time alone I’d really spent with him.”

“Well, I’m glad you found his help useful, Sebastian,” Kurt said, thankful that his voice was continuing to stay even, because Blaine was taking him deeper and deeper, and his mouth was just so perfect and hot, his lips tight around Kurt’s cock, and it was becoming harder to concentrate on what Sebastian was saying.

“Do you know if he’s single?” Sebastian mused, and Kurt tried not to sputter. “He’s kind of sex on a stick, and if he is single, I need to take advantage of that.”

Blaine’s fingers were now digging into Kurt’s thighs, as if trying to remind Kurt how he was very much _his_ , but Kurt panicked, just a tad, and had no idea what to say. “I – I’m not sure,” he stammered, because what in the hell would Blaine have wanted him to say? “But either way, I’ve spent enough time with him to know that you’re really not his type.”

“Oh, what, like _you’re_ not my type? Because we’ve traded, what, like half a dozen blowjobs over the past year, at least? I could totally settle for that with Blaine, since I’m not his type either.” Sebastian smirked at him, and Kurt was fairly certain he had a deer in the headlights look going on.

Even worse – Blaine had frozen.

Kurt hadn’t told him about Sebastian. To be fair, neither of them had talked about either of their past relationships much. Kurt knew Blaine’s last serious relationship ended a year before he came to Chicago and was part of the reason he decided he needed a change of scenery. Blaine knew Kurt’s last serious relationship ended just after law school, but that was it.

Kurt really wished he’d explained more before this moment.

“Those were all drunken mistakes, Sebastian,” he found it in himself to retort. “Ones that will _not_ be happening again.”

“I’m pretty sure you could argue the first time was a mistake, but your case is pretty weak for the others.” Blaine seemed to have recovered from Sebastian’s words, swallowing Kurt’s cock down once more, harder and faster than before. “We’ll see if you’re saying that in a month once we’ve won the Schuester case.”

“You’re going to be sorely disappointed.” Kurt’s cock actually hit the back of Blaine’s throat at that point, and he had to use every ounce of willpower he had not to cry out. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have way too much shit to do to waste time arguing with you.”

Sebastian held up his hands, still smiling smugly. “By all means, don’t let me keep you.” He stood up, making his way to the door. “In fact, I think I’m going to avoid you as much as possible for the next two weeks, since you’re being a complete ass.”

“Oh, boo hoo, I’m so crushed. Leave Blaine alone!” Kurt hollered as Sebastian slammed the door behind him. “ _Blaine_ ,” he whispered, harsh and low, once he could no longer hear the clacking of Sebastian’s shoes on the wooden hallway floor.

Blaine just grunted, sucking Kurt’s cock with renewed vigor. Kurt had been so fucking close before Sebastian came in and unfortunately, Sebastian’s general unpleasantness hadn’t been enough to kill his impending orgasm. He came embarrassingly fast, fingers tangling in Blaine’s gelled curls once more, Blaine swallowing around Kurt until he was through, his lips off of Kurt’s cock the instant his hips pulled back.

Kurt threw his head back against the headrest of his desk chair, eyes fluttering shut with bliss and sighing. He opened his eyes when he felt his desk chair roll back, Blaine moving him so he could come out from under the desk, and he realized Blaine’s eyes were filled with silent tears. Not ‘oh my god, that was amazingly wonderful sex and I’m overwhelmed with emotion’ insignificant tears, tears of actual hurt. Kurt’s heart sank.

“Blaine,” he said, reaching out for his hand as he walked by, but Blaine snatched it away. “Blaine, I’m sorry –“

“Is that all I’m going to be one day? Some drunken mistake?” Blaine whispered, grabbing a tissue from the box on Kurt’s desk, attempting to clean his face of spit, come, and tears. 

“Blaine, _no_ ,” Kurt insisted, pulling up his underwear and pants and buckling his belt. “I didn’t tell you about Sebastian because –“

Blaine laughed bitterly, and Kurt’s own eyes welled with unshed tears at how _angry_ he sounded. “You don’t owe me anything, Kurt. I – I have to go.”

“ _Blaine, wait,_ ” Kurt pleaded, reaching for Blaine’s hand once more.

Blaine was too quick for him again, muttering, “Don’t,” as he ignored Kurt’s attempts for contact and walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt watched from his office doorway as Blaine ducked into the bathroom, emerging as if he’d just splashed water on his face and hair, and listened as he explained to Brittany he wasn’t feeling well and would call Sugar from the train home. He must have looked awful enough for Brittany to believe him and express her concerns, hoping he felt better soon, and Kurt couldn’t go all weekend leaving things the way they were.

He would follow Blaine home, he decided. Give Blaine a little bit to compose himself and calm down, and then he’d show up at his door and they’d work things through.

Only one problem. He had no idea where Blaine actually lived; just that it was in Jefferson Park. In the few months they’d been together, Kurt had never actually been to Blaine’s place.

Kurt was beginning to see why Blaine might have overreacted. It had just been so _easy_ to fall into a routine, getting caught up in each other with what little free time they had, and Kurt’s place was just closer. Blaine had never said anything, of course, but Kurt should have at least made the effort.

Kurt went to his computer, set up a fake meeting on his calendar that spanned the rest of the afternoon, and then snuck into Sugar’s office to find Blaine’s personnel file containing his address. He typed it in his phone before heading out, informing Brittany of his urgent meeting and telling her he would be reachable on his phone all afternoon for anyone who needed him. He stopped at home to quickly change into something more comfortable for braving the subways in the scorching July weather (not trusting himself to make the drive in his state) and stopped by Intelligentsia for an iced mocha since there was no way he was eating lunch – the idea that he’d hurt Blaine had made him sick to his stomach.

It was after two-thirty by the time he got off at the right stop, the directions on his phone easy enough to navigate. It turned out Blaine lived in a sixth floor walk-up – no wonder his ass looked fantastic. He had built in daily exercise living on the very top floor, the stairs outside with no air conditioning to boot. As Kurt climbed the stairs, he began to panic. What if he’d waited too long? What if Blaine had come home and left again? What if Blaine was home, but refused to answer the door? By the time Kurt reached the top of the stairs, he was almost completely out of breath, and he stood in front of Blaine’s door trying not to psych himself out. Before he could even ring the bell, the door swung open, Blaine standing there wearing a pair of cut off grey sweatpants and a CUNY tee. “I heard someone come up the stairs,” Blaine explained, looking surprised to see Kurt standing there. “The other three apartments up here are vacant, so.”

Kurt sighed, wanting to reach out and open the screen door so nothing was separating him from Blaine, but he kept his hands at his side and said, “You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing.” Blaine smiled sadly at his words and popped open the screen door to let Kurt inside.

The apartment was small and tidy, if a bit impersonal. The only touches of Blaine were on the fridge in the tiny kitchen, which was covered in photos of family and friends, some postcards and kitschy magnets, and a generic print of the New York City skyline over the couch. There were two half-shut doors down the short hallway, but Kurt didn’t venture further from where he stood. “It came furnished,” Blaine explained as he watched Kurt take it all in. 

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here,” Kurt said softly, turning to face him with a sincerely apologetic expression, and Blaine just shrugged.

“It is kind of out of the way.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Kurt insisted, wanting to reach out and take Blaine in his arms, but remembering the way he’d flinched at his touch back at the office. “I should have told you about Sebastian,” he finally blurted out, needed to reassure Blaine. “It didn’t even cross my mind, because what happened with him was just so _inconsequential_ to my life in general, I didn’t think it was a bit deal.”

“It isn’t,” Blaine whispered, seeming like he was on the verge of tears again, and Kurt did reach out for him then. Blaine didn’t try to resist and let Kurt wrap his arms around his shoulders tight.

“It is, though. It might have been inconsequential to me, but I’ve known Sebastian long enough to know how he can spin things, and it should have come from me, not him. You know what we have is so much more than that, though, right? Before we started this, I told you I was ready for a relationship, and I wasn’t kidding.” He felt Blaine sag against him, sighing a bit with relief, and he was so glad he hadn’t screwed up beyond repair.

“I know. I think I knew that deep down. I just … needed to get there on my own.” Blaine pulled back far enough away from Kurt to face him, pulling Kurt’s hands from his shoulders and taking them in his own. “It’s kind of my instinct to run. I ran from high school, I ran from law school, I ran from New York, I ran from _you_ … I’m so sick of running.”

“So, stop,” Kurt said simply, squeezing his hands around Blaine’s. “Stop running and just _stay here with me_.”

“I want to,” Blaine blurted out, laughing so the tears in his eyes stopped threatening to fall. “I was so afraid … so afraid what we had wasn’t real, because I love you, Kurt, and I was terrified there was no way you could love me back.”

Kurt felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. Blaine _loved_ him. He had realized how important Blaine was to him over the past few weeks, and while he hadn’t used the word love in his mind, the moment Blaine said it, Kurt knew it was absolutely true. “I love you too,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth curling up in a grin. “I really do,” he added, chuckling at Blaine’s look of disbelief on his face. “I’m not just saying it, I swear.” 

Keeping their hands entwined, Kurt leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and breathing in deep, watching Blaine’s eyelashes fan out over his cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll tell Santana on Monday if that’ll make you feel better.”

Blaine contemplated Kurt’s offer before reopening his eyes. “Maybe after the trial. Everyone’s a little high strung right now. As evidenced today.” He ducked his head bashfully, laughing a bit, and it just really hit Kurt – how crazy in love with this man he was, and how he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it before now. 

“So,” Kurt started slowly after they stood for minutes, or maybe hours, just getting lost in each other’s presence and breathing the same air (minutes was more likely, but Kurt was so blissful, he would have believed hours). “I do believe I should get acquainted with the rest of your home.” His tone was playful and he quirked his eyebrows slightly so Blaine had no question about his intent.

Blaine dropped Kurt’s hands, holding up a single finger. “Give me one second. I wasn’t expecting company.” 

Kurt was about to tell Blaine he really didn’t care about the state of his bedroom – like he was even going to notice, he had much more important things to focus on – but he figured he could indulge Blaine just the once. 

Blaine wasn’t gone long though, reappearing at Kurt’s side and gripping his hand tightly to guide him down the short hallway. “The bathroom is tiny and boring,” Blaine said, swinging open the door the rest of the way. He was kind of right, but Kurt said nothing, tilting his head inside anyway to see the tiny shower, toilet, and sink. “I think you’ll like it in here much better.”

Blaine tugged him along to the bedroom, which was filled with basic IKEA furniture – a bed, low to the ground, a simple dresser, a tall bookcase and nightstands on either side of the bed. The nightstands were filled with lit candles, which must have been what Blaine was doing before, just a bit of afternoon sunlight filtering in through the curtains and blinds covering the small window. A few photographs were framed, sitting on the dresser and bookcase, and Kurt would have to look at them more closely later – right now, he had important business to take care of. “Perfect,” Kurt whispered, coming up behind Blaine and kissing his cheek. “Just like you.”

“Mmmm, you must have not looked in a mirror lately then if you think any of this is perfect,” Blaine replied, steering Kurt towards the bed and guiding him down gently. He pulled off Kurt’s shoes before climbing over him to position himself on the other side of the bed, and Kurt had to suppress a giggle before situating himself on the bed fully and turning to face Blaine.

“I like your bed,” Kurt said lazily, sinking against Blaine’s pillows, unable to stop a stupid grin from threatening to take over his face.

“Yours is better,” Blaine countered, resting a hand on Kurt’s hip, and even though he’d technically just come hours before, Kurt couldn’t resist leaning into his touch. “Though, really, any bed you’re in is my favorite.”

Kurt was about to agree, when Blaine’s hand trailed up to his neck, pulling him close enough for their lips to meet. Nothing had truly changed, Kurt knew, but Blaine’s kisses seemed surer somehow. Not a trace of hesitation to be found, neither of them holding anything back. Certainly, they’d had a disagreement and had faltered, but they were okay. They were _in love_. 

Maybe nothing had changed, or maybe everything had changed.

Blaine flipped them so Kurt was flat on his back, Blaine hovering over him, his kisses moving from Kurt’s mouth to every single place that drove Kurt crazy that wasn’t covered by clothing. When Blaine went to suck on the sensitive spot behind Kurt’s ear, he bucked against Blaine involuntarily, whining out Blaine’s name needy and desperate and raw, and Blaine whispered, “Shh, Kurt, I’ve got you, trust me,” just like he had their very first night together so many weeks ago, and Kurt blinked back the sudden onset of tears, wondering if Blaine remembered saying it that night.

“I always do,” Kurt whispered back, gasping as Blaine drew his earlobe into his mouth, tugging gently with his teeth, his tongue fluttering against it. Kurt thrust his hands underneath Blaine’s thin tee shirt, desperate to feel Blaine’s skin against his. “I always trust you, Blaine.” 

“I know,” Blaine replied instantly, his breath hot and heavy against Kurt’s ear. “I need to be inside of you, Kurt, can we –“

“ _Yes_ ,” Kurt hissed, not even waiting for him to finish, yanking at Blaine’s shirt in an attempt to get it off. Blaine raised his arms to help the process, and Kurt tugged at his sweatpants next, discovering his lack of underwear underneath, and Kurt really wished he wore fewer layers himself. 

Kurt sat up halfway, pulling his shirt off in one go without even unbuttoning it, undershirt included, while Blaine worked on unbuttoning his shorts. There was a sense of urgency between them now; the need to be as close to each other as possible materializing the instant Blaine’s words left his mouth. Blaine nipped at Kurt’s hipbone as he pulled down Kurt’s shorts and briefs in one swift motion, growling at him to turn over before presumably heading to find lube and a condom.

Kurt felt Blaine’s hands firmly trail down his back once he returned, stopping just above his ass, and he was about to beg Blaine to get on with it, when he felt Blaine spread his cheeks and instead of a finger circling his rim, Blaine’s tongue.

“ _Oh, fuck,_ ” Kurt cried out as Blaine nudged at the front of Kurt’s knees, pulling him up slightly to afford him a better angle. Kurt bent almost in half in an attempt to get Blaine’s mouth back on him, and Blaine just chuckled, blowing a burst of cool air at his entrance before giving Kurt exactly what he wanted, short, firm strokes of his tongue, hot and wet against his hole. “ _Blaine_ ,” he whined when Blaine finally folded his tongue, slipping just the tip inside of him. He was dimly aware of his cock bobbing against his stomach as he tried to keep his writhing to a minimum. It was hard and leaking precome already, and Kurt was amazed he was able to get hard again so fast – he never did stand much of a chance when there was a tongue in his ass, though.

“Blaine that feels – _amazing_ ,” Kurt said as Blaine’s tongue delved deeper inside of him, setting every single one of his nerves on fire, “but if you don’t stop, _oh god_ , I’m – I’m going to come before you’re even inside of me.” 

Kurt exhaled when he felt Blaine retreat, not even realizing he’d been holding his breath. “I want you to come,” Blaine breathed out, still close enough for Kurt to feel Blaine’s breath as ghost over his skin as he spoke, warm and thick and making him shiver. “I want you to come now from my mouth, and then I want to fuck you and make you come again.”

“ _Blaine._ ” There was no way, no fucking way. “Blaine, I just came a couple of hours ago in my office, you were there, I can’t –“ Kurt tried to protest, but then Blaine’s tongue was back against him, Blaine’s strong hands gripping his cheeks, and all Kurt could do then is whimper and wonder why in the hell he’d want to stop _this_.

Blaine began thrusting faster in and out of Kurt with his tongue, and everything was so _wet_ , Blaine’s spit trailing down his balls, down his _cock_ , and it was all so perfect, Kurt was going to come without even touching his dick, come shooting all over Blaine’s sheets as his cock pulsed. He only narrowly missed collapsing in it when he sunk to the bed, his thighs finally giving out from holding his ass in the air for Blaine for so long.

“God, you’re so gorgeous when you come,” Blaine murmured, placing dry kisses along his spine – he must have wiped his face in the sheets. “I could watch you come all day.”

“Isn’t that the plan?” Kurt asked weakly, but he was smiling. “You’re going to kill me.”

“Your death will be in vain,” Blaine teased, moving his kisses to the back of Kurt’s neck. “Sexy, sexy vain.”

“That makes no sense,” Kurt mumbled, his eyelids threatening to slip shut even though he knew they were far from through. “No sense at all.”

Blaine just hummed in response, placing more lazy kisses down Kurt’s back, his erection brushing the cleft of Kurt’s ass as he moved, Kurt’s body somehow working enough to arch against Blaine’s. “And here, you were _worried_ ,” Blaine said, chuckling as he rested his hands at Kurt’s waist. 

“Just go slow,” Kurt retorted, gasping as he felt Blaine pull him open once more to look, muttering something (Kurt could only make out the words _fucking gorgeous_ ) before he left him and Kurt heard the click of the lube bottle opening and closing. He gasped again as Blaine’s fingers pressed in, because in what language does _go slow_ translate to starting with two fingers? He had been stretched enough from Blaine’s tongue for them to glide in easily though, Blaine’s blunt fingertips pressing inside where he was still so sensitive from his orgasm. He was still so sensitive _all over_ , all of Blaine’s touches too much and not enough all at the same time, and Blaine was close against him, whispering encouragement right against his ear as his fingers worked slowly in and out of him, Kurt barely realizing it as his legs shifted open more for Blaine and he added another finger.

He was still moving slow, his thick fingers brushing over Kurt’s prostate purposefully and making him tremble with each stroke, and finally, Kurt had to beg. “C’mon, Blaine, please.”

“Yeah,” Blaine breathed out, withdrawing his fingers and turning Kurt over on his back. “I want to see you,” he explained while busying himself with the condom. 

Kurt was still feeling utterly useless when Blaine pushed up his knees so he could line up his cock with Kurt’s entrance, slick with lube. “Here,” Kurt murmured, hooking his ankles over Blaine’s shoulders, Blaine muttering some comment about Kurt’s flexibility. “I used to do yoga with Quinn. Now I just spend all my free time having sex with you.”

“That’s a much better deal, in my opinion,” Blaine replied, finally pushing into Kurt with one slow solitary stroke. If Kurt thought he was useless before, he was even more so now, the wonderful full feeling of Blaine’s cock inside of him turning his words to nothing more than gasps and moans. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t such a good idea,” Blaine said once his cock was buried deep inside Kurt, inhaling sharply as his eyelids fluttered shut. “I’m not going to last very long.”

“That is not really a problem, Blaine,” Kurt replied, straining his neck so his lips could meet Blaine’s, their quick kisses messy and off center more often than not as Blaine’s hips started to grind slow and steady against him. “You don’t need to draw it out any more, promise,” Kurt finally said, throwing his head back against the pillows as Blaine started a steady rhythm, all of his muscles burning slightly as Blaine pounded against him, and the burn felt so _good_. “Come on, baby, let go,” Kurt murmured as Blaine panted above him, whimpering at Kurt’s words, but instead of humoring Kurt, flipped them so Blaine was on his back, without even pulling out, and he wrapped a hand around Kurt’s cock as he kept thrusting up into him.

“You first,” Blaine hissed, tightening his fist around Kurt’s cock, and it was too much far too soon, everything suddenly bright and harsh and assaulting Kurt’s senses, and Kurt honestly wasn’t sure if he could come again, but he couldn’t fault Blaine for trying. He screwed his eyes shut, trying to focus on how Blaine was _everywhere_ , inside him and under him and surrounding him. Blaine brokenly whispered, “Please,” and that was all Kurt needed to push him over, coming weakly at the sound of Blaine’s voice, and even the weakest orgasm from Blaine was still amazing to him, and god, _he was so in love with this man_.

Blaine must have truly been holding out, his orgasm hitting the second Kurt reopened his eyes. Kurt supposed Blaine was pretty gorgeous himself when he came and was unable to hold back a grin at his thought.

“What are you smiling about?” Blaine asked once he realized it, voice gruff and hoarse, guiding Kurt off him to the dry side of the bed. He tied off the condom and pulled the duvet back over them, the sheen of sweat that coated their skin starting to cool under the fan overhead. 

“Just stupidly in love with you,” Kurt replied, still grinning as Blaine wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close again. He could hear the drone of his cell phone vibrating in the pocket of his shorts against Blaine’s hardwood floor, and Blaine started to get up to get it for him, but Kurt just tightened his grip around Blaine’s waist. “Whoever it is can wait,” he protested, because he urgently needed a nap and he was desperately in love with Blaine Anderson, and those were the only things that mattered at the moment.

 

Kurt was truly grateful for his afternoon with Blaine, and for the weekend that followed, because in the coming week, the whole office found themselves running on late nights and little sleep. In their Thursday morning staff meeting before the Schuester trial was set to begin, everyone was testy and on edge and that was even _before_ things started going wrong. 

Kurt knew deep down that this was good. All of their loose ends were getting discovered when they still had five days until trial (two of those days being a weekend, but still). That thought didn’t keep him from snapping at anyone who was screwing things up.

Namely, Lauren. Which, in retrospect, probably was not the most brilliant move on Kurt’s behalf.

“Lauren!” he howled when she’d misplaced another set of files. “If we can’t even trust you to keep track of things, what are you even _doing here_?”

“I don’t know, Boss,” she replied, her tone icy. “Maybe if you spent more time helping me instead of screwing around with one of the _other_ paralegals, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

It was one of those moments when it was if someone paused and then restarted in slow motion the DVD of Kurt’s life. He saw the moment when each person seated at the conference table realized what Lauren was talking about, Rachel the first to react. “I _knew_ it!” she squealed, as Sugar’s eyes widened and she did a little clap. “I knew Blaine was seeing someone, though he denied it each time I asked.”

“Wait a second,” Sebastian roared, eyes darting between Kurt and Blaine. “That’s why you told me Blaine wasn’t my type, because _you_ wanted to bang him yourself. You were both gone that afternoon!”

“Actually, this all started after Kurt’s birthday,” Blaine said in a small voice, eyes trained on his legal pad, just the slightest hint of pink in his cheeks. 

“Wanky,” Santana breathed out from where she was seated next to Blaine, offering her hand for him to high five, which he tentatively returned.

“We should fire you,” Sebastian gritted out, eyes boring into Blaine, and Kurt laughed bitterly.

“Are you _insane_?” he yelled at Sebastian, ignoring the whispering of the paralegals and Sugar and Brittany at the other end of the table, which promptly stopped at the volume of his voice, everyone turning to face him at the head of the table, Sebastian on his right. “You’re just saying that because you’re jealous – I can’t actually take you seriously right now.”

“Hold up,” Santana said calmly, raising her hands in the air. “We don’t have any company policy against dating coworkers. I know because I made sure of it before Brittany and I started seeing each other last year.” Brittany was grinning from ear to ear at Santana’s revelation and Sugar gasped loudly, Santana narrowing her eyes at her. “Oh, come _on_ , don’t act like you all didn’t know. So, if we fired Blaine, we’d have to fire Brittany too, and then who would screen your calls?” Santana asked Sebastian, sugar coating her every word.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten really good with the telemarketers. I finally convinced the phone book guy I don’t know what the Yellow Pages are. I asked if we could get them in purple instead,” Brittany said, looking extremely pleased with herself. 

Sebastian clenched his jaw, obviously making the wise decision to stop while he was ahead. The far end of the table resumed their chattering and Kurt cleared his throat. “Okay, Blaine and I are dating, as are Santana and Brittany. Anyone else care to share anything or can we get on with things?” He expected everyone to nod their heads and get back to business, but Rachel suddenly cast her eyes downward, and Quinn was staring daggers at Artie.

“Actually …” Artie started and Kurt could have sworn he saw Quinn kick him under the table. 

Another clearing of his throat. “So, Artie and Quinn are making a second go of things, and Quinn doesn’t want to jinx it,” Kurt said quickly with a sigh, Quinn turning towards him and mouthing _thank you_. “Rachel? You’re up,” he added wearily, because he was almost certain what her revelation would be.

Rachel’s head snapped to attention, her eyes widening as she glanced at Kurt. “I … well, your brother and I have also been seeing each other romantically since your birthday. We’ve been meeting halfway in Indiana most weekends. He wanted to tell you himself, but he and Noah are opening a branch of their business here in Chicago, and he didn’t want you to think it was just because of _me_ , it was Noah’s idea all along –“

“Wait a minute,” Lauren interjected. “You’re telling me that Puckerman is moving _here_? I can’t get him to leave me alone as it is! He texts me daily professing his undying love for me! I had to up my texting plan!”

Rachel launched into a discussion of the merits of Puck as a decent human being with Lauren, Brittany leaned over to whisper a question in Artie’s ear about Quinn, who then turned her rageful look Santana’s way, and Sugar was muttering to herself, drawing invisible lines between them all “Puck and Lauren … Finn and Rachel … I really _should_ make a flowchart ...” The chattering grew louder, to the point where Kurt decided to give up controlling them all and glanced over at Blaine, who was ignoring the chaos around them. 

“One crazy, dysfunctional family,” Blaine said quietly, only loud enough for Kurt could to him. Kurt grinned. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Kurt woke up Monday morning to a settlement offer from the School Board on the Schuester case. He had attempted to strike a deal numerous times in the previous months, and he had an inkling the School Board attorneys finally realized how strong and solid their case was and how they’d look to a jury.

By two o’clock, the paperwork had been signed by all of the necessary parties and everything was done.

By four o’clock, everyone was at Sebastian’s apartment celebrating – because out of all of them, he did have the nicest place and he’d already purchased all the alcohol in anticipation of winning. “Come _on_ , we had it in the bag!” he said when everyone stared at him, amazed at his revelation. 

By six-thirty, there was a rousing round of Truth or Dare being played on the floor of Sebastian’s living room, which Kurt had not a bit of interest in. He nicked one of the bottles of champagne from Sebastian’s fridge and dragged Blaine, along with two glasses, out to the balcony.

“It’s still kind of anticlimactic, isn’t it?” Blaine noted as they both sat down in Sebastian’s lounge chairs.

“Yeah, but it happens. The clients still get justice and just as important, we still get paid for all the time we spent on it.” Kurt jiggled the champagne cork to unstop the bottle, finally getting it loose with minimal champagne spilling over the side. He filled the two glasses and passed one to Blaine, clinking them together. “Plus, now we can toast to us, which is way more thrilling.”

“We do make a pretty good team,” Blaine agreed, pausing to take a sip from his glass. “In more ways than one.”

Kurt took a large gulp from his glass, probably larger than was polite, but he’d already lost count of how many glasses he’d had in the hours before. “That’s kind of exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Kurt had met Santana for brunch the previous day, even though it meant tearing himself away from his warm bed where Blaine was sleeping next to him. They talked about Blaine and Brittany and it was the most honest conversation they’d had in years. 

She also gave Kurt a few things he needed to ponder a bit more before bringing them up to Blaine.

He realized Blaine was waiting patiently for him to speak, so he drank down another gulp of champagne, effectively draining his glass, and got on with it. “So, feel free to tell me to mind my own business and to let you make your own decisions, but something you said a few weeks back when we were at your apartment stuck with me.” Kurt noticed Blaine’s brow furrowing, which made perfect sense – a lot had been said that day, good and bad. 

“You just said you didn’t like running from things, and you ran from law school,” Kurt clarified. “I was talking to Santana, and she still has decent contacts and Northwestern, and if you ever wanted to go back … it’s something to think about.” Kurt reached for the champagne bottle between them, refilling his glass and turning on his side to face Blaine, who was looking at him in awe. “I just want you to be happy, Blaine. If in ten years, you think you’re going to be just as happy being our paralegal as you are right now, I won’t mention it again, but if you’re not sure – well, I think I know a firm that might be ready for new partners in a few years.” 

He grinned at Blaine, who shook his head in disbelief, reaching for the champagne bottle to refill his own glass. “I don’t know what to say,” Blaine finally said, sipping at his champagne. “If I do it, does that mean my name will be first, since you’re alphabetical? Anderson, Hummel, Lopez and Smythe?”

“I said nothing about a name change,” Kurt teased, a mock-serious expression on his face. “Sebastian has finally stopped being pissed at us for the whole secret sex life thing – maybe in a few years he won’t actually care, but we had to go with alphabetical so we’d all make it out alive.”

Blaine laughed, turning on his side to match Kurt. “Did you know he regularly tries to weasel details about our sex life out of me now? I’m going to have to stock up on witty retorts, I think.” He stared at Kurt for a while, both of them simply sipping their champagne, and finally said, his voice full of sincerity, “I really appreciate it and I’ll think about it, alright?” 

“Perfect,” Kurt said, refilling their glasses once more, and they sure were working through the bottle quickly. “To being happy, then,” he added, clinking their glasses together with a cheeky grin, “and speaking of being happy …”

Kurt trailed off at Blaine’s incredulous look, raising an eyebrow. “You’re just full of interesting information today, it seems.”

“I told you my brunch with Santana was productive,” Kurt retorted, reaching out for Blaine’s hand in the empty space between their lounge chairs. “This I thought about afterwards, though. When I came home and you were still there.” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand, waiting for him to continue. “Again, feel free to tell me I’m crazy, because I know we’ve known each other barely six months, and have only been together a little more than half of that, but when I came home from brunch and you were there, on my couch, watching baseball … I liked coming home to you. We spend almost twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week together, and I haven’t been sick of you, not for one minute.” 

Realization of where Kurt was headed with this dawned on Blaine’s face, so he surged forward. “You just live so far away, and I know you don’t have much stuff because _I’ve been there_ , and I’m not saying give up your apartment right away, because I’m sure you have to give notice, or whatever, but if you wanted to move some or all of your stuff into my place, on a trial basis –“

Blaine cut him off, leaning over their hands, laughing and grinning. “Oh my god, Kurt, _shut up_. I’d _love_ to move in with you.” Kurt leaned over close enough for his lips to meet Blaine’s, kissing him through the laughter. It was a miracle neither of them spilled any champagne. 

“You know, I think these lounge chairs are almost big enough for two,” Blaine murmured, since they were both halfway out of their chairs, meeting centrally in the space between them. There really wasn’t, but Kurt didn’t care, getting up out of his chair and flopping into Blaine’s, curling up into Blaine’s shoulder, their legs tangling together because they didn’t have anywhere else to go. “I want you to be happy too, you know. I want to _make_ you happy. I want you to be proud to be with me.”

“I am, Blaine,” Kurt whispered, tilting his head back. “I am already _so proud_ to be with you, going back to law school isn’t going to change that. Promise.”

“I know,” Blaine whispered back, kissing Kurt’s forehead because it was the only place he could reach without twisting and possibly falling out of the chair. “I also know that as anticlimactic as it was, I’ll never forget the Schuesters, because they brought me to you.”

Kurt sighed happily, even though he knew they would have hired paralegals with or without the case. Still, they might have waited until the end of summer and by then, Blaine might have been employed elsewhere. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang on the sliding glass door. “Losers!” Santana shouted through the thick pane. “Stop making out like high schoolers and get in here! It’s time for shots!”

Kurt just rolled his eyes, muttering _crazy, dysfunctional, fucked up family_ under his breath, and Blaine gave him one last kiss to the cheek before saying, “Yeah, but they’re _our_ family.” 

Kurt looked at the group situated in Sebastian’s living room as he walked through the door from the balcony. He wouldn’t have picked most of them – and hell, on some days, he wouldn’t pick _any_ of them – but he was beyond thankful that they’d found each other. He sat down in the circle on the floor, squeezing himself next to Rachel and trying to tune out the grotesque details about his brother that she was telling Quinn, and when Blaine sat down next to him, he reached over to squeeze Blaine’s knee and whisper in his ear, “I am happy.”


End file.
